Lolalou's

2010-07-17T22:50:00.002-04:00

By Small and Small: Midnight to Four A.M.
By Jack Gilbert

For eleven years I have regretted it,
regretted that I did not do what
I wanted to do as I sat there those
four hours watching her die. I wanted
to crawl in among the machinery
and hold her in my arms, knowing
the elementary, leftover bit of her
mind would dimly recognize it was me
carrying her to where she was going.

2010-04-21T17:59:00.004-04:00

Now Hiring: Chaperone/Interpreter of Awkward

The time has now come. What I need is someone to assist me, and help manage my interactions out in the real world. For a long time now, a version of this position has been filled by my good friend Sara "H" S. She has spent a decade and a half letting me know when I've done something bizarre. Eventually, it got to the point where she could accomplish this with just a look. To be fair, Jessica S. has also carried her fair share of this burden. But this job is no longer necessary, because now I'm completely aware that I'm completely weird. What I need now is someone to follow me around and stop my weirdness. Intercept on my behalf, if you will. Because I am powerless to stop myself. Take today, for example. I sell my Baby Bjorn to a woman on Craigslist, and we agree to meet at Water Street to make the trade. I walk in and sit down and she says, "Aww! Look at your son! How old is he?" and I say "1 year". Then I say, "How old is your son?" And she says "3 months".

See all that empty space up there? That's where I was supposed to say something like "Oh, he's so cute!" or "Wow, he's big, eh?". But I don't say either of those things. I say NOTHING. Basically I just stare at the baby. Let's just get this out of teh way: I stare at people A LOT. If I've stared at you in the past, I hope it comforts you to know that, inside my brain, I am screaming "AHHHHH! STOP STARING!!! SAY SOMETHING!!!"
Though I cannot interact with people, I am fairly good at deciphering what it is they're thinking, and this woman is thinking "This girl thinks my baby is ugly". And I DONT think the baby is ugly. I mean, he has one of those faces that will be really handsome in high school, but currently looks too old for his baby body, and that's tripping me out a bit, but ugly? Not at all. THIS is where the Chaperone of Awkward would step in and say one of the above stated appropriate things, thereby creating the allusion of natural conversation flow, and getting me out of trouble. Again.

To be clear, this is a live-in job.

2010-04-11T11:27:00.001-04:00

TERRIFYING!!!

http://www.icaughtthetoothfairy.com/

Hello, little girl! I'm here to take your teeth! All of them! Plus? YOUR SOUL!

2010-04-09T12:46:00.002-04:00

Professor W. Runs a Tight Ship

*Maybe don't read this if you're easily offended.

Here's what happened in my class today:

Student 1: Dude, what are you writing your research paper about?
Student 2: Down Syndrome kids who are bilingual. My friend's son has Down Syndrome, and if you talk to him in English he doesn't respond, but if you talk to him in Portugese, it's like he doesn't even have a disability.
Student 1:.... man, he doesn't have Downs Syndrome. He's just foreign.

2009-11-08T09:16:00.003-05:00

Here are two stories about what an idiot I am.

Do you ever look at a word and not recognize it? This happens to me often. Take, for instance, this morning, when I am reading the Arts and Entertainment section of the Kazoo Gazette, and I see that the KIA is putting on a presentation called "Deaf Folklore: Deaf people, culture and identity".

I know the word deaf.

But when I look at it today, all I can see is the word "leaf" with a a d. So I pronounce it, to myself, "deef". So I read this out loud to myself "Deef culture: Deef people, culture and identity". And then I say to myself, "Huh. I wonder what Deef is." And I am sitting there thinking that it's some type of ancient culture or something, like Hmong. And then I realize it's deaf. Let me tell you, though- the amount of time I contemplated whether or not I have ever heard of the Deef culture was absolutely unacceptable.

This happens to me a lot with that show The Closer. Have I talked about this before? EVERY TIME a commercial for The Closer comes on, I read it as "The Close-er"(as in, "You are closer to the remote than I am"), and EVERY SINGLE FRICKIN TIME, I think to myself, "Huh. Is that a show about aliens?". Because "The Close-er" is an alien show type of name, like "The Undead" or "Close Encounters", or whatever. And then I remember that me and myself have had this conversation many, many times before. Even as I just reread this paragraph to myself, I pronounced it "The Close-er" in my head.

Probably the kicker is that people pay me to teach their children the English language.

2009-09-16T12:25:00.003-04:00

The Art of Awkwardness

The truth is- and I'm cool with this- I am incredibly socially awkward. I don't know why. I'm okay once I know people, but if I don't know people, I am like... TERRIBLE. I like to tell myself that it has something to do with being a writer, and that I spend so much time watching people that I don't bother to actually participate like a normal human being.
Mostly that's bullshit, though.
I'm just weird around people. Some of the crap that comes out of my mouth simply because I can't come up with anything else to say? Unbelievable.
So I get this idea that I'm going to make more of an effort to be "social".
Here's the embarrassing part.
I'd like you to note that I HAPPENED upon the audio book, rather than seeking it out. Anyways, I'm at the library, where I live, and I see this new audio book called "The Art of Mingling". It is basically a book about mingling in situations where you don't know anyone. Cool, I think. I could use that.
I'm not really a self-help book type of person. Actually, the idea of self-help books makes me really depressed. I can't tell you how many students (okay, I can: 3) I have had write about a self-help book called The Secret, and how it changed their lives. I don't want a self-help book to change my life. Maybe that's snotty. Oh well. Anyways, this one didn't seem so helpy. It seemed practical. Plus, I have a two hour round trip drive to work twice a week, so I listen to a lot of audio books.
So I get it.
Today, I'm listening to it.
What I think mostly is that it's a cruel, cruel joke.
I think that this woman who wrote the book was thinking to herself (probably at a party, where she's like, *sooooo* comfortable) was "You know what would be funny? If I wrote a book where I told socially awkward people how to act in social situations, only I gave them really BAD advice, but they took it because they're socially awkward and don't know any better."
Hilarity. Ensues.
Because I'm listening to this audio book, and it is just bad, *bad* advice.
Take for instance (and I'm only about 45 minutes into it, so I'm sure it will get much worse..) the chapter on "Great opening lines".
She made an alphabet of things to talk about. Each letter stands for a topic. "A" for instance, stands for art.
"C" stands for... cat?
Here's her opening line suggestion:
"Hey, can you help me? I'm trying to come up with a name for my cat."

I gave you a few lines of white space there so you could digest that.
.... what, seriously?
That's your brilliant ice breaker? Can you help me name my cat? Because that doesn't sound COMPLETELY RANDOM or anything. It's clear that this woman is not aware of the link between social awkwardness and old ladies and cats. Lots and lots of cats.

Another great ice breaker, falling under her "daring" category (there are two categories- "safe" and "daring", and as far as I can tell, neither one is a good idea).
"Are you people going to talk to me or what?"

No. No one is going to talk to you. Because you sound obnoxious.

Others in the "alphabet" section:
"K" is for kids. Suggestions include:
"Man, there sure are a lot of kids at parties these days"
"I wonder what all of this looks like to a kid"

Wow. Suddenly I have to go to the bathroom. Would you excuse me?
YOU. ARE. NOT. HELPING.

And then I thought, maybe, just maybe, this self-help book is an evil self-help plot to sell more self-help books. Because after you read this, then ask someone to help you name your cat, then get shot down in a major way, you're really going to end up in a dark place and NEED to read The Four Agreements, right?

And I ALSO can't help but think, what if your cat line actually worked, and you become dear friends with whoever you struck up a conversation with, and then that person comes to your house for the first time and says, "Where's your cat?"
But you don't HAVE a cat.

2009-08-31T18:12:00.006-04:00

Another Bizarre Phenomenon: The Car Advertiser

Car advertising. As in, pasting the name of your business all over the side/back of your car via a cling-on. Could be a good idea, right? It's free, after the purchase of the cling thing. It appears in multiple places (wherever you appear), instead of staying in one place like a billboard. Sure, it can be a great idea. Unless you're the most aggressive driver on earth.
Seriously, people. You need to THINK. THINGS. THROUGH. Here are a few questions for you:
* Do you tailgate (not with beer)?
* Do you pass people on the inside lane, even though they're already going 5 miles over the speed limit?
* Do you honk aggressively and make wild hand motions?

If you answered yes to any of the above, car advertising is NOT. FOR. YOU. You see, it turns out that if you are a complete jerk while sporting the name of your business in huge letters across the side of your car, it has the exact OPPOSITE intended effect. It turns out that, after you cut someone off and flip them off, they no longer have a fuzzy feeling about Fuzzy Friends Pet Store. I know. Advertising is tricky that way.
Honestly, what are you thinking? Do you forget?
Today I was on the expressway and this huge white Suburban-looking thing gets within an inch of my bumper as I'm going 75ish. So I get over. As they're passing, I look over to give them the deathrayeye, and there's "Such and Such Pet Cemetery" painted on the side. My first thought is that they're probably keeping themselves in business, driving like that. My second thought is, if my dog dies, that's the LAST place I'm burying her. I mean, I don't like my dog, so I'd probably just bury her in the backyard anyway, but I'm definitely not burying her there now.
All of this brings me to the story of DJ Craze, my arch enemy of Kzoo. That's not his real name, and he doesn't know he's my arch enemy. He runs a DJ business, a fact that wouldn't escape you if you ever ran into him, because the name and info is literally pasted all over his van. The first time I ran into DJ Craze was when I was out running along Drake. It's a bit difficult to turn onto Drake from side streets, because it's decently busy. DJ Craze was having none of that, though. The poor guy in front of him was inching forward, looking for an in, and DJ Craze laid on his horn, starts yelling and wild-hand-motioning out of his open window.
And then I thought to myself, "Hey, If I ever need a DJ, I'm calling DJ Craze!"
No.
I thought, Hey, DJ Craze! I hope all your records skip!
And now, I see him EVERYWHERE. At the post office, at the Y, at the post office again. He looks a lot like mean old man Clint Eastwood from El Torino. Except, if he happened to witness me being beat up by a gang, I don't think he'd save me. Unless the beating was blocking traffic. In which case, I think he'd just bulldoze us all. Every time I see him, I narrow my eyes a little. Should I ever need a DJ, I will know exactly who not to call.
Am I saying that I am some awesome, heal the world driver? No, but I also don't have "Lolalou: College Professor!" written across my car. Though I do have an Obama bumper sticker, and he probably wishes that I didn't.

2009-08-21T11:00:00.005-04:00

Laura, what's the point of having a blog if you're not going to write on it.

As Min not-so-delicately pointed out, it's been awhile. I apologize. I'd like to say that I've been doing something. But I haven't. I just forgot.

So.

I want to talk about that Shorty I Could Take You There song.
Usually the radio is just on as background noise in my car, but every once in a while I make the mistake of actually listening to the lyrics. I suppose that listening to the lyrics of any Sean Kingston song is a big mistake. In the future, I think he should just read the newspaper to a catchy beat. It would be better, Sean. Trust me on this.
In case you were ignoring the actual lyrics like I was, here's the first verse:
We can go to the tropics
Sip pina coladas
Shorty I could take you there
Or we can go to the slums
Where killas get hung
Shorty I could take you there

So. Sean. What you're saying to me is, either you can take me to Jamaica and we can hang out on the beach and drink cocktails... OR... you could take me to the ghetto. Where (according to you) 15 year olds have guns and "killers get hung".
See, Sean, I'm confused. It feels like a trick.
Every once in a while, I use this trick on my husband where I'll give him two choices. I will say on date night, for instance, "Rob, either we can go see a play.. or we can play cards." Rob does not like to play cards. That's mostly because he never wins and he's a poor sport, but that's a whole different blog. The thing is, Rob hates going to plays SO MUCH that ANY OTHER CHOICE ON EARTH sounds like the BEST. IDEA. EVER. So, he's like "Cards! That sounds great! Let's play cards!", whereas, had I just said "How about we play cards?" Rob would have said "I don't LIKE cards". Should you like to use this technique in the future, I will also mention that you have to put the terrible choice first. That way, he thinks for a split second that he's going to have to sit through a play, so when you offer the second, still-not-appealing option, it feels like he's narrowly escaped something horrible.
But this is where my confusion comes in, Sean.
Because ONE of those options (I'll let you guess which) is very UNappealing, while the other is very APPEALING. The game is supposed to be a lesser of two evils thing, but there's only one negative here. See, I would choose the tropics, even if you had offered another option that I actually like- say, watching movies in bed all day or camping or eating a lot of ice cream. So, you didn't have to offer me a really bad option to get me to choose it. But you did...
What this leaves is one of two possibilities:
1. You really, REALLY suck at this game.
2. You're up to something.

And that's why, Shorty, I think you should choose the slums. He THINKS that you're going to choose the tropics, obviously, which means he WANTS you to choose the tropics.
Or maybe that's just what he wants you to think...

Which is why my final advice is this: Stay home. Break up with him and stay home. Screw him and his manipulative, mental warfare.

2009-06-26T17:56:00.007-04:00

Weird Phenomenon: The No-Help Helper

Earlier this week I was at Meijer in the bean aisle. Beans are tricky. They've all got two names. For instance, what you may not know is that 'cannelini beans' are also called 'white kidney beans'. Kind of like in high school when you had to study mythology and it turned out that the Romans and Greeks all had the same gods, but they had different names and you had to memorize both of them, and you're like WHY THE HELL DON'T YOU GUYS JUST AGREE ON ONE NAME? Anyways.
Usually, in the face of bean confusion, I call my mom. My mom knows beans like the back of her hand. She's a registered beanologist. But that day I didn't have my phone on me. I was at the grocery store with Brady without a phone. Please do not tell Rob this. It will prompt all sorts of discussions about responsibility and blahblahblah.
This was my lucky day though, because just as I was coming to the realization that no beans said canellini, a woman appeared behind me. The woman really did look a little like the fairy godmother from Cinderella, so I'm sure you can see where my thinking was.
Fairy Godmother points at a big jar of beans and says to me "Those beans are GOOD! I made a soup with them and they were fantastic!"
I say "Do you know which beans are cannelini beans? I know they have another name..."
This is where the weird phenomenon comes in.
My fairy godmother then proceeds to pick up four different cans of beans and explain to me that they are NOT what I'm looking for. It goes like this:
"Well, these are pinto beans. And these are great northern beans. And these are black beans..." On and on and on. What is the thinking here? Is this like a process of elimination thing? Was she going to identify and take every can of beans off of the shelf until only one lonely can of label-less beans remained in the back, hiding behind all of the other beans?
"Ah hah!" she would then say, "YOU must be the cannelini beans!"

This is not a phenomenon unique to beans.

Rob and I have both noticed this. Have you ever made the stupid, stupid mistake of pulling over and asking someone watering their flowers if they happen to know where XYZ Street is? Here is the response you're bound to get:
Them: "Well... this is Front Street.." (pause..look around) "and that's State Street..." (pause... look at you.. water gushes out of the hose, making a lake on the lawn...)
You: "Okay..thanks..."

Unhelpful helpers of the world, I am speaking directly to you. STOP. Repeat after me "I. Don't. Know." Say it, now. Say it again. Liberating, isn't it? Use it. It is okay not to know. It is okay to stop wasting people's time in the name of friendliness. Because, you see, I'm not upset that you don't know. That's perfectly fine. I'm upset that, because I have asked you this question, I now have to sit and wait through the answer which, let's be honest, is really just "I don't know".
But I can see you that you are turning over a new leaf. You will do great things with these three new words. I will now take this gift that you have given me, this ten minutes that you would have used to name all of the objects around me like I'm in a F'ING RICHARD SCARRY BOOK, and I will give it to someone who can help me.

I thank you.
Go now.
You are free.

2009-06-11T20:49:00.002-04:00

What I Learned in Photography Class Last Night: I Look Like Hell

I knew better than to take this class. I have taken a class with this man before. I'm sure he knows what he's talking about in regards to photography, but... something's not quite right about him. It's not just that he has a penchant for pictures with naked women and fruit. Let me put it this way: I would not be at all surprised to find out that he had appeared in an episode of To Catch A Predator.

And, since I'm not putting his name here, let's be honest. He's a really terrible teacher. I try not to be too hard on teachers,because I am one and I know how hard it can be. But call a spade a spade. The man is a terrible teacher. There is no pre-planning. Basically, people ask random questions and that constitutes the entire class. Booo. Bad class structure.

Here's a quick summary of what happened tonight:

1. I make the mistake of asking a question. Cause I'm an idiot. My question is this: "Could we go over using an external flash? I have the same flash you have, and I used it at a wedding, and I wasn't happy with the way it turned out. I'm sure I'm just using it wrong."
His response:
"Okay, well let's try it. Come stand here by the wall."
He then takes a picture of me with the flash on.
He then shows it to me and says "See. It looks good!"
A. It does not look good. My face looks washed out.
B. ....wow. Great. Thanks for showing me that! That explains exactly NOTHING.
Note: All of this will come back to haunt me later in the class. Wait for it.. wait for it..

2. About halfway through the class he tells us, "If you can see something, even the outline of something, you can still photograph it. It's never too dark to shoot, if your settings are right. I could turn all of the lights off in this room and still take a picture of you guys."
There are no windows in this room.
Is this like the photographer's version of machoism?
I don't know.
But he's got to prove it to us.
Here's how that works out:
"Okay, I'll turn out all the lights...
"... okay, that's too dark. Turn on a computer screen. I can light the whole room with just one computer screen!"
"...okay, that's too bright..."
Finally takes picture. Looks at it.
"Well.. I mean.. you never really know what you're going to get..."
My internal monologue, here on out known as "mim" : Actually...you do. There's a whole bunch of people who can move the dials and know exactly what they're going to get... they're called photographers. That's why I'm here. I was kind of hoping to be one.

2. As you may know, if the light is low and there's another light source, the light source appears blurred in the picture. Example: If you wave a cellphone around, like at a concert, and the light is low, it will look blurry.
In his picture (the magic low-light picture) the computer screen looks kind of vapory, if that makes sense.
This causes him to launch into a discussion of spirit photography.
This discussion includes the sage advice: "If you ever take a picture, and you see some kind of light in there.. that's not a ghost.. that's just a reflection."
Phew.

3. Here's where the picture comes back to haunt me. He hooks the camera up to the projector. The huge projector. You know where this is going. For a while we look at the spirit photography (NOT GHOSTS!!! REFELECTION!!!...or is it?)
Then of course, he puts the picture of me up.
mim: Stop. Stop now...
Him: Look, see how great that flash looks?
Mim: no...
He then zooms in.
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
Listen, I've never had great skin, but NO ONE looks good this big.
Mim: Stop. Stop. Too late...

My eye is now about three feet tall, on the screen.
And the skin under my eye looks..I think the word is 'reptilian'.
But he couldn't stop there.
Because this man has no filter.
Then he opens up photoshop and says "And if you need to correct some blemishes..."
Then he proceeds to take the time to remedy my acne in photoshop.

Because he's an ass.

Fine, dude. So my skin isn't flawless. But do they have a tool in Photoshop that will cover up the fact that you LOOK LIKE A PEDOPHILE???
I'm thinking no.
And so I win, even if only internally.

Really can't wait to see what I learn next week. Maybe he can take a picture of my hips and airbrush me in front of the whole class until I'm a size 6.

2009-05-28T10:18:00.005-04:00

Ho. Le. Crap.

This is brilliant.

2009-05-26T10:04:00.002-04:00

That little boy's gotta think 'You got a pet. You got a responsibility.' If your dog gets lost you don't look for an hour then call it quits. You get your ass out there and you find that $%@#ing dog.

So, I'm running through my repetoire of kids songs the other day: The fishy song, Bill Grogan's Goat, Baby Beluga,"He's Got the Whole World In His Hands" with a few questionable additions, "What I Got" by Sublime before I realize it references pot and cocaine and have to switch mid-song, the usuals...
And then I land on the Five Little Ducks Song.
I've got a problem with this song.
Sure, it teaches counting.
Counting backwards, no less.
But you've got to wonder what exactly we're teaching our kids here.
Let me refresh your memory as to the lyrics of this song:
Five little ducks went out to play
over the hills and far away
mother duck said "quack, quack, quack"
but only four little ducks came back...

FOUR little ducks.."
And on and on.
I've got two big questions for you, Mother Duck:

(1) WHERE THE CRAP IS YOUR KID?
You sent your five kids out and only four came back. Are you a little curious about where that last one went? You know, just because you have five kids doesn't mean you can spare one. There are three major possibilities here:
(a) Someone kidnapped your kid.
(b) Your kid is somewhere in the woods, hurt and crying for help. Possibly a tree fell on his leg, and now he has to make the heartbreaking decision: do I bleed out, or do I cut my own duck leg off with a rusty Swiss Army knife, sans anesthesia, to save my life? This isn't really a decision that any child should have to make.
(c) Your other four kids did something terrible to that fifth kid. Possibly they sold him for drugs. Or tied him to a tree and left him for dead. Did you even ASK the other four where the fifth is? Because if they're all like "We don't know", I might consider pressing them a bit harder.

My second question is this:
(2) WHY DO YOU KEEP SENDING YOUR KIDS OUTSIDE WHEN THEY'RE CLEARLY BEING KIDNAPPED?
I think the saying goes "Kidnap my kid once, shame on you. Kidnap my kid twice, shame on me." Something like that, anyways. It doesn't exactly take a brain surgeon to realize that if your kids keep disappearing, you maybe shouldn't keep sending them outside to play. Where do you live, exactly? It isn't safe, wherever it is. Why don't you get a membership to the Y and send them there if you're living amidst a war zone?

Mother Duck, the only conclusion I can come to is that you are strung out on cocaine, or heroin, or possibly crystal meth. Perhaps it's your drug dealer who keeps stealing your children. What he doesn't realize is that you're so high, you don't even notice, and that's not the way to get the money you owe him.

And lastly, let me tell you something. I don't really even condone spanking, but if I sent that last duck out and all five came back like "ha ha, mom! we all pretended like we were kidnapped", those kids would be in for the spanking of their lives.

And that's why I went back to singing "What I Got", because both songs are about people with strung-out moms, so what's it matter? Plus, the Sublime song has a better beat. Though it doesn't teach counting...

2009-05-21T13:05:00.005-04:00

My Thursday Brush With Death

Okay, that's a little dramatic. But still...
I love, love, love Kalamazoo.
I also love downtown Kalamazoo, but let's be honest and say that you will meet some of the sketchiest people alive there.
Today I met a man with a tracheotomy voice box, which in itself is not sketchy in any way, but I like to set the scene for you. This man is sketchy. If I tried to describe it to you, you wouldn't exactly get what I mean. Just trust me on this one.
It went like this:
Brady and I are going to the library (AWESOMEST library), and I get the stroller out of the trunk and put him in it, and lock the car, and stroll the stroller up onto the sidewalk. Just then, this man is walking by, so I say hello, and he says hello, and we chit chat, small talk.
Him: How's your day?
Me: Oh, good. Got my coffee. (Yeah, I'm like a genius of small talk, eh?)
Him: Well, that's all you need.
Me: Yeah.

So we walk up to the light on the corner and wait for it to turn red.
While we're waiting, my new friend, speaking to no one in particular, pushes the button on his voice box and says "God, please don't let the devil talk me out of doing what I know I have to do."

Okay.
Maybe I'm paranoid (yes), but does that not make you think that he's going to haul a gun out of his back pocket and kill you?
My immediate thought was the beginning of that book "I Know This Much Is True", where the guy is schizophrenic and saws his arm off in a library because he thought that God wanted him to.
Luckily, that didn't happen.
I was really happy to find out that that was apparently NOT what he knew he had to do.
Either that or the devil talked him out of it.
We crossed the street and I went into the library and he walked off down toward the outdoor mall. Probably what he knew he had to do was apply for a job, or finish "Ulysses", or recycle more often, and I am just a horrible, judgemental person.

P.S. Today, my Gambit-obsessed friend from the "Big Tree" coffee shop was wearing purple-tinted John Lennon glasses. It was difficult to carry on a conversation.

2009-05-03T22:08:00.006-04:00

More Where That Came From

1. You know what I don't like? When I google myself (oh, shut up- you've done it before), and google suggests things, some OTHER girl with my name comes up and has 18,000 results. Stop having my name and being more famous than me. That's why I gave Brady such a long frickin' name- he'll never have the disappointment of finding himself, only not himself, when he sits around Googling his name. So what if all that comes up is the shameful time results from that 5K he ran in college. At least it will be him.
This reminds me of a story.
A few years back, I had a MySpace profile. One day, someone sent me an email, and it said "This has to be the (my name) from XYZ school in Alaska. There's no way there are two (my name)'s with bright red hair like that."
Well, apparently there is some way. Because I've never lived in Alaska.
I hate how people are always trying to BE me.
Get your own identity.

2. I've been reading a lot of parental information handouts from my pediatrician lately. This is because I have no idea what I'm doing as a parent. I went looking for the one on pacifiers, because I curious if I was creating a mentally unstable child by sticking a pacifier in his mouth every time he cries.
Let me tell you, if you want to feel better about yourself as a parent, read the handouts from your pediatrician.
The thing is, when they specifically tell you not to do asinine things, you know that the only reason that they're telling you is because someone, somewhere did it. Kind of like the McDonald's coffee cups that say Caution! Contents are hot! (no crap?).
Anyhow, here are my 2 favorite pacifier instructions/warnings from my pediatrician handouts:

1. Though the pacifier may fall out of the child's mouth while he sleeps, you should never attempt to attach the pacifier to your child with tape or other materials.
Really? Don't put tape over your child's mouth? Why? I mean, he's got a nose, can't he just breathe out of that? Isn't that why it's there, for like, back-up?

2. Never prop a bottle up in your child's crib so that they can feed themselves when hungry. It is simply too dangerous.

Prop a bottle up for self-feeding? Like that water thing we used to have in my hamster cage? Whatever genius did this also failed to note that babies can't MOVE or pick things up yet. If your kid is cognizant enough to wake up in the middle of the night, locate a bottle that's been left in his crib, eat, and go back to sleep, then he's probably old enough to get up and make himself a midnight snack, and you shouldn't even need to prop the bottle up.

Listen, I'm not trying to act like I'm super-parent. I've only had Brady for four weeks and I've already done some stupid things. For instance, the other night I picked him up out of his crib and his whole side was wet. It didn't smell, though. And his diaper seemed dry, so it wasn't like he peed THROUGH the diaper, and he seemed dry except for that one part. I thought to myself, "Man, that kid is sweating a LOT". Then I put him back in his crib, on his other side so the wet side could dry, and let him go back to sleep. Later, I felt the sheet and realized it was wet, and no kid sweats THAT much, and then I realized that he was somehow peeing out the side of his diaper, and baby pee doesn't really smell, and brilliant me just let him sleep in it. Awesome, Laura.
That said, I would never tape anything to him.

3. A few more stories about my favorite coffee place

I can't write the name of the coffee place anymore. Here's why: There's this special thing you can do to see if anyone has linked to your blog, and I was looking at it the other day, and I found one that I didn't recognize. So I went to it, and it turns out that it's the personal link page of the FOUNDER of said unnameable coffee place, and he has found my blog where I bash his barista for talking to me about my pregnancy. Underneath the link, it says "Not good press. Must respond."
Freaked me right out.
So anyways, same coffee place, different location.
I walk in, and the girl says "Oh my God, you have lost SOOOO much weight since you had that baby! Seriously, your face is MUCH thinner."
So I had pregnancy fat face and no one told me.
Cool.

Same coffee place, location where pregnancy girl work(ed?):
I pay for my coffee in drive through.
Barista guy: I don't think Gambit could work here.
Me: ... who?
BG: Gambit. The X-man?
Me: ......

He then launched into a several minute discussion of who Gambit is, and why he couldn't work at a coffee shop, apparently because he somehow throws exploding cards? I clearly don't know who the crap Gambit is.
The conversation ended when I, trying to go completely against my nature and be conversational, told him that my mom really likes the X-Men movies.
His response:
"Well, that's probably just because of Hugh Jackman. Women really like Hugh Jackman."

Uh huh. Right then, I was picturing in my head the exact look my mom would have given him if he'd tried to tell her that she only like the X-Men because of Hugh Jackman, and it would NOT have been pretty.
I really like it when people say things like "Women really like...".
It makes me feel like a panda bear. Like "Well, you know, pandas really like bamboo."
Pandas like bamboo, women like Hugh Jackman.
The world is crystal clear again, thank god.

4.
Me:.. should we take him out of the swing and put him in his crib?
Rob: No. He's asleep.
Me: What if he falls out of the swing?
Rob:... what are you talking about? You just made up a problem.

2009-05-02T20:56:00.007-04:00

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME, CAUSE I'M SO FRIGGIN HAPPY.

1. Me: Rob...
Rob: Yes?
Me: ... I don't look like a man do I? I mean, I'm not mannish, right?
Rob: ... define 'mannish'
Me: Rob...
Rob: Not an unattractive man

Hey! Remember that part in the ceremony where they say 'Does anyone object'? THANKS EVERYONE. Although, perhaps I SHOULD be thanking you, because apparently I'm so MANNISH that no one else would have married me.

2. Yesterday was our five year wedding anniversary and Rob took me to McDonald's on our way to KC and Aubrey's wedding, where we were taking pictures. And I got to get a combo. That's what five years gets you. Next year: a McFlurry.

3. I've been going to the library to get kids books to read to Brady. Okay. I've got a few favs. Click, Clack, Moo: Cows That Type is stellar. Such sassy cows! I also enjoy anything involving that sassy pigeon who wants to drive busses and stay up late. The other day I read a book about a squirrel with social anxiety disorder, which I also enjoyed. There are people out there writing kids books who understand that adults have to read the damn books TO the kids and don't want to die of boredom. And then.. there are others.
Some major offenders in the "What's Up With This Book?" category:

1. Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile
What the hell is a crocodile doing living in an NY apartment? Let me tell you a story. When we lived in NY, I remember a news story about a woman who was keeping a tiger in her bathroom and was mauled to death by it. Probably because she read Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile as a child. After I read it, Brady and I had a discussion about why wild animals belong in the wild or at the zoo. CROCODILES ARE INSTRUMENTS OF DEATH. And they don't go grocery shopping with New York housewives.

2. Runaway Bunny
Basic premise: Bunny wants to run away. Scary mom bunny is like "If you leave, I will find you.."
Baby bunny: I'll hide out at sea
Momma bunny: I'll become a boat and sail out to find you!
Baby bunny: I'll hide in a cave!
Momma bunny:I'll get a head lamp and go splunking!
Baby bunny: I don't want to go to school, I want to do drugs with my friends!
Momma bunny: I will hunt you down, baby bunny! I will hire a private detective, and when he finds your strung-out, Good Charlotte-listening, dumpster-diving butt sleeping on your best friend's back porch, he'll grab you and send you to a wilderness camp where you'll have to eat lentils and cry before they let you come home!
YOU'LL NEVER ESCAPE ME BABY BUNNY!
Woah, mom. I wonder why he wants to run away. Maybe it's time to take up knitting or join MOPS or something.

3. Giraffe and a Half
I got halfway through this one and wanted to kill myself, but I thought that quitting would be a bad lesson to teach Brady. He would get to be eight or nine and want to quit T-Ball halfway through the season or trade the violin for the clarinet (only acceptable if you're my sister and THAT astonishingly bad at violin), and it would all be because I didn't finish Giraffe and a Half. So I kept reading. But I told him that this had better not become his favorite book.

4. A bone to pick with Goodnight, Moon
I'm down with Goodnight, Moon. But I've got one problem. Goodnight bowl of mush? That, my friend, is filler material. Like in a song where you need something to rhyme and you cant come up with anything, so you make up something random. You can't just make a bowl of mush appear out of nowhere to suit your rhyming purposes. Who's mush was it? And why didn't they take the bowl out to the kitchen and wash it out if they were done with it?
Other things you could have said goodnight to, other than mush:
Goodnight, lush.
Goodnight, Orange Crush (yum)
Goodnight, Rush (the band. I envision this as being the ONLY pop-up page in the 2009 version of Goodnight, Moon. You're reading along, saying goodnight to the old lady in the chair and all the sudden, POW!, there's 3D pop up of Rush on your page. I'd pick out a song for them to be singing, but I couldn't name a Rush song to save my life.)
Goodnight, thrush (a common baby disease, might as well say goodnight)

Or, just don't say goodnight to the brush.

OR- switch the comb and brush.
So, now it says "Goodnight, brush. Goodnight, comb."
(Goodnight, Pontiac Silverdome.
Goodnight, Nickelodean Floam (do you remember that stuff??))
Goodnight, friendly garden gnome)

Anyways, now I'm reading him Harry Potter. Less confusion.

5. I'm done. I'm exhausted. Goodnight, bowl of mush.

2009-04-14T19:21:00.006-04:00

If you're one of my family members, you've heard these stories. Fair warning....

1. Once upon a time Rob went to Disney World, because he was a band geek and his HS band was playing in the Disney parade.

side note: If you think about it, that Disney parade is really friggin creepy. Every day? Every day you have a friggin parade like it's a holiday? There is something really surreal and Twilight-Zoney about that. The two movies that come to mind are The Shining and A Clockwork Orange. I can't exactly explain what I mean, but you'll notice that both of those movies involve gory death, so maybe you get my point.

Anyhow, they go to Disney World. And there's this quartet there, I imagine somewhere along the thoroughfare (I imagine this because I've never been to Disney World, but it seems like it would have a thoroughfare), and it's these four women who sing "Mr. Sandman". And the big exciting thing is, they choose someone from the audience who gets to do the 'Yeeeesssssss" part (you know.."Mr. Sandman! Yeeeeeessssssss Bring me a dream!". Anyways, of course they pick Rob. So he's getting all ready and preparing for his part, and when it's time, the guy points the microphone at him... and Rob says "Thank you"
Like this:
Du-du-du-du-du-du-du-du
"Mr. Sandman!"
"Thank you"
"Bring me a dream!"

I don't know, I guess he got nervous or something. Can't you just see everyone's face though? Can't you see Rob's really confused face like, "why the hell did I just say thank you?"
I think I like this story so much because it's exactly the type of thing I would do.

2. Our across the street neighbor Mary comes over the other day with this huge pineapple upside down sheet cake. We're all "Oh, thanks Mary, that was so nice!", and she says "Oh, well, I remember that it's your favorite, so I thought I'd better make it and bring it over for you."
Chit chat, chit chat, blah blah.
She leaves and Rob turns to me and says "I didn't know pineapple upside down cake was your favorite.."
And I'm like "... I thought she was talking to you."
We're both pretty curious who that cake was actually for, but it's pretty good. Almost good enough to be my favorite.

2009-04-01T12:10:00.004-04:00

I'm An Idiot and The Pirate Window

You know how when you're waiting for something- like good news, say- every time the phone rings you think it's whatever you're waiting for? So, every time my phone rings the past week or so, I think "oh! maybe Brady's about to be born!"
Then I remember that I'm the one having the baby, and would probably not be getting a call from someone telling me I'm in labor.

In the meantime, while I'm waiting for myself to call myself and tell me I'm in labor, I've been buying baby clothes on eBay. Awesome deals! But this is my pet peeve (there's always got to be a pet peeve, right? I can't just be happy..): Ralph Lauren/Burberry/Roca Wear/Sean John/Nike baby clothes. Someone is going to have to explain to me:
1. Why they even MAKE designer baby clothes
2. Why people BUY designer baby clothes.

What are you thinking?? They're BABIES. They mess stuff up. They can't control their drool!! They grow out of clothing in like 10 seconds! And yet, on eBay, people bid on this stuff like CRAZY! There was a baby Burberry shirt going for $50 yesterday. I just can't figure out why you would even care if your baby was wearing Burberry. Babies are supposed to wear cute stuff, not trendy stuff. The other day I bought a green onesie with a pirate on it saying "arrgh!" and some striped pants to match. The whole thing cost me $1 at the baby resale shop. Here's the thing: people have their whole lives to wear Burberry. But you can only get away with putting a kid in a pirate onesie for a very limited window of time. It's called the Pirate Window. See, right now, kids look absolutely adorable in hats with bear ears attached. Not too many years down the road, however, wearing clothing with bear ears is going to be your first sign of some serious social maladjustments. Embrace the bear ears. Do not waste the Pirate Window on friggin Burberry.

2009-03-23T23:00:00.003-04:00

My Bed

So. Furniture.
We bought this furniture about 2 and half years ago when we moved back from New York. A bedroom set, to be specific. A delightful sleigh bed and matching dresser in an attractive cherry finish. Dazzling.
I won't tell you where we got it, but suffice it to say it rhymes with "Smart Can". Or "Cart Tan". Or "Tart Man", for that matter.
The summer we bought it, they came up to our apartment and put it together.
"How lovely", we thought.
Then Rob sat on it and it collapsed.

When the repair guy came (yeah, we had to pay the repair guy to come, by the way), Rob started to explain to him what had happened. The guy interrupts him and says, "Oh, I know exactly what bed you have, then. This happens with all of them."
Cool. So they sold us a bed they know can't support any weight. He put these little extra support metal things on the wood slats underneath, so they could hold up. We had to pay for those too. Kind of like if you bought a house whose walls wouldn't stay up. So then you paid someone to come out and prop them up with 2x4s.

Anyways, with the exception of the fact that whatever genius put this bed together used nails that were too long, causing me to snag my clothes on the sharp edges poking out through the end of my sleigh, the bed worked fine.
And then it didn't.
The other night, we're sitting in bed.
Just sitting. Watching some TV.
And the bed collapses.
Just collapses.
Upon further inspection, the metal slats that go into the wood have actually torn the wood. From this point on, I will put the word "wood" in quotations. I'd like to have a woodnalysis done before making any further assumptions as to the bed's predominant material.
Anyways, the "wood" is officially torn, and unfixable. Right now, I'm sitting in my bed typing this. Know what's holding it up? A rubbermaid container. Let's do a cost analysis:
Amount paid for bed and dresser set: $2000
Amount paid for rubbermaid container that's actually supporting the bed: $12

"Don't worry!" I tell Rob. "We have a warranty on this bed." A LIFETIME warranty.
I look it up on my receipt, which I have so wisely saved. There it is, lifetime warranty
Oh my God, I am such a genius. I am so WISE for buying a warranty. Look at all the money I saved myself. Probably I'll get a whole new bed. Some days, Suze Orman has nothing on me.
So I call up Smart Can. It's like I can basically see the lady on the other line filing her nails. I say to her "My bed collapsed. But I have a warranty on it."
She looks up my invoice number.
"Nuh-uh", she says. Blowing on her nails. Gotta get that nail dust off.
Do you want to know what that damn warranty is for?
The finish.
I have a lifetime warranty on the finish of my bed.
The cherry finish.
Could someone tell me WHAT THE F IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO THE FINISH OF A BED THAT NECESSITATES A LIFETIME WARRANTY?
Because my finish is fine, people. Stunning, even. You know what's NOT fine?
MY ONE-HORSE BROKEN SLEIGH, THAT'S WHAT.
There's a damn gap between the end of my bed and my mattress big enough for my DOG TO FALL THROUGH.
Lady's like "No, there's no warranty on the bed itself. You want someone to fix that, you're going to have to pay them to come out there."
I will be DAMNED if I'm going to pay someone to come out again and fix what shouldn't be broken in the first place.
SCAM! SCAMSCAMSCAM!
I told her "Oh no, this thing's a piece of crap. I'm not paying anyone to come out."
She's all "Alright. Bye."

You know what I'm going to do? I'm gonna ruck up the damn finish, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going take a nail file to it. I'm gonna do that twice a year for the rest of damn life. Even when we've replaced the bed, I'm gonna call them over, direct them down to the basement where the bed is sitting empty, and I'm going to sit upstairs and have a glass of wine and laugh to myself. I will make you wish your lifetime was over, warranty!

2009-03-13T23:18:00.004-04:00

"No, Laura, you know what we're going to to do when we get home? I'm going to thumb wrestle you until you bleed."

I went downtown to meet with this guy. I parked in the parking ramp. Let me just clarify that all of the parking ramps in downtown Kzoo are owned by the same company. They all take debit cards. Except, naturally, the one I parked in.
I'm on my way out after meeting with this grant guy, and I try to give the lady my debit and she's like "Oh, we don't take debit. The other ones do, but we don't."
Because that makes sense.
That's like "Oh, this McDonald's doesn't sell cheeseburgers, sorry."
There is the natural expectation, when all of the other ramps take cards, that this one will follow suit. And when it doesn't IT REALLY KIND OF MESSES UP YOUR DAY.
I'm like "um.. okay. I don't have any cash."
She says "Well, do you have any change?"
Don't you think I would have thought of that?
No lady, I don't have any change.
I owe $2.
She tells me I have to back up, turn around and go get my parking validated. So I turn around and start going back into the ramp, and I hear the lady behind me yelling "YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!!!"
Ya think?
As you can see, I have a chip on my shoulder as far as this lady goes.
Anyways, I go back to the office where grant guy works and, don't you know, they don't validate parking.
The nearest ATM is two blocks away. So I start walking.
I'd just like to remind you that I'm 38 weeks pregnant right now.
I get to the ATM and put my pin in, and it tells me it's the wrong pin. Then I remember that, twice in the last four months, my bank has sent me new debit cards with a note that says "there's been a security breach. we have to cancel your card." So, I don't know my pin anymore.
I try a few different things. They don't work.
Now I call my bank. They put me on hold for a decade, and then they come back on and say "you tried too many times. now we have to send you a new pin in the mail." They can ONLY send it through the mail.
Cool. I guess I'll go home and wait for that.
Fools!
I am now stuck in downtown Kzoo because I cannot come up with $2. Rob can't come bail me out because WE SOLD HIS CAR A FEW WEEKS AGO.
I really can't emphasize to you how pathetic you feel when you're stranded somewhere over $2.
Here's how I eventually get out: I remember that the store where I buy my running gear validates parking. So I go there and buy a $20 pack of running socks so that I can ask them to validate my parking. Repeat: I spend $20 to get a $2 validation.
By the time I get out, the shift has changed and someone new is in the toll booth. That lady is so lucky that her shift was over, because I'd had a brisk walk and plenty of time to come up with some choice words for her.

2009-03-08T12:01:00.003-04:00

All About "He's Just Not That Into You"

In my defense, it was actually kind of Rob's choice. Kind of, because I refused to see Watchmen. I wasn't in the mood for scribbly face and blue man. Anyways.. we go. It was alright.
First of all, there's this part where Scarlett Johannsen says to whoever "The categories are sexy, cute, smart and funny. Which two am I? You can only pick two."
So I say to Rob, "Which two am I?"
Do you know that that boy chose 'smart' and 'funny'?
Okay, it's not brain surgery here. EVERYONE knows that, posed with this question that is clearly a trick, you need to choose one from the 'looks' category, and one from the 'personality' column. If you choose two from the looks column, it means you're vapid, and if you choose two from the personality column, it means that you're ugly. Guys, please prepare yourself for this question. And "you're all four" is not acceptable. He tried that too.
Okay, maybe I'm a bit hormonal. Come on, though. I've got like 3 weeks left, and I've been so good thus far.
Then, there's this other part in the movie where this guy I really liked cheated on his wife, and it really pissed me off. So, this morning, I made Rob spend about half an hour telling me all the reasons he's never going to cheat on me. Just so we're clear, I'm not even trying to pretend that that's sane. Give me a break. Anyways, thirty minutes later, when he's rolling his eyes and just about to kill himself, I let it go. Then I said "We should watch one of our Netflix movies tonight."
Rob says "Okay, what do we have?"
Changeling.
He gives me this look and says, "What is that about?"
So I tell him.
Then he says, "Let me get this straight. After the conversation you just put me through, you now want me to watch a movie with you where the woman's child is kidnapped and then she gets someone else's kid back?"
Then Rob went into the bedroom and got the Netflix movie, put it in its return envelope and hid it. He said I could watch it in eighteen years.

In other news, Ryan and Jen joined a bowling league and I'm completely jealous. If you want to start a Kalamazoo bowling league, please let me know. I want shirts, too.

2009-03-04T23:26:00.003-05:00

"Laura. After the baby comes out, I'm going to drop-kick you."
Notes From Lamaze Class

1. The man sitting next to me had redface and reeked of alcohol. Like, the kind of reeking where it was hard to take a breath while faced in that direction. Had someone given me a breathalyzer, I very well may have failed. This did not give me hope for the future of the poor baby in utero.

2. His wife didn't seem to notice? Or at least she didn't act like it. But then again, I guess if you're husband was boozing prior to lamaze, you wouldn't so much bring it up in front of everyone.

3. I want you to get a ruler. I then want you to measure out ten centimeters. I want you to do this because I don't think you quite understand how big 10 cm. is. I sure as hell didn't. Think grapefruit.

4. Do you know what lamaze is? I knew it was breathing and all. But I thought it was effective breathing. Effective how, I don't know. Stupid me and my faith in constructive breathing. Please don't be fooled; lamaze is exactly this: breathing in your nose and out of your mouth while 'relaxing'. THAT'S WHAT YOU'VE GOT FOR ME, DR. LAMAZE? Really? If all you've got is in the nose and out the mouth and 'butterfly massage' (which consists of me fluttering my fingers over my stomach in circles, Winnie the Pooh style), you can just bring on the epidural, fools.

5. Rob would not let us leave early to watch Lost. Instead, he made us stay and watch a movie about a woman who did not get an epidural. So, instead of enjoying my favorite show, I had to watch someone in more pain than I can really fathom. Thank you, Rob.

6. At one point, there was a demonstration. A dad ("coach", if you will) volunteered, and the lamaze teacher 'birthed' him out of a pink turtleneck, which was supposed to replicate the 'effaced cervix'. This experience was surprisingly effective, as it replaced the non-epidural birth video as the most disturbing thing I've ever seen. Then, Rob has to raise his hand and say "Do babies usually come out with facial hair?" Again, thank you, Rob.

2009-02-24T13:06:00.002-05:00

Why My Energy Bill Was $250 This Month

Me: ROB, WOULD YOU TURN THE DAMN LIGHT OFF IN YOUR OFFICE WHEN YOU'RE NOT IN THERE, PLEASE?!!
Rob: I can't!
ME: WHY?!?
Rob: How will my computer grow?

Sometimes my Rob quotes remind me of those "Kids say the darndest things" from Reader's Digest.

2009-02-24T08:13:00.003-05:00

How I Made An Ass of Myself Lately- Tuesday Edition

Nurse: Okay, drop your stuff in that chair and we'll get you on the scale.
Me: Okay
Nurse: Have you been getting a lot of movement?
(In my defense, she was just talking about getting on the scale. Train of thought, hello.)
Me: Oh. Yeah. I've been walking on the treadmill everyday.
Nurse: ....I meant from the baby.

2009-02-23T00:11:00.001-05:00

Calling All Choreographers

This May, Rob and I will have been married for five years. I've informed him that, for my anniversary present, I want him to learn the dance that they do at the end of Slumdog Millionaire and perform it for me. We'll be at a wedding that night, so maybe we can clear the dance floor and he can do it for everyone. He's going to need some help though. If you feel like you're a pretty good dancer, maybe you'd like to chip in and help out Rob. Go ahead and give him a call now.

2009-02-20T06:58:00.004-05:00

I Am a Disgraceful Blogger

I don't know where I've been. Out. Sorry. I'm back now.

1. Last night we play Boggle, which I bought on Ebay and got scammed over. Anyways, I don't think I've played Boggle in about a decade. Fun! For a while. Why do I play games with Rob? We're having a good old time until Rob realizes that he's losing. Then, he sets in motion the "Rob M. Win-Or-Die-Trying" method of play. This includes stringing random letters together and, when I ask about it, claiming that the word is a character from Lord of the Rings. Like "Oh yeah, Yuzbutu. He was a wood nymph." Which wouldn't work anyways, mind you, since you can't use proper names. Then he starts trying to use foreign words, which he knows is illegal.
Rob: I have 'pon'
Me: What is 'pon'?
Rob: Like that song? Hey Mr. DJ pon de replay?
Me: You can't use foreign words
Rob: Well, it's Americanized.
Me: Oh yeah? What does it mean?
Rob:.... shut up.
I'm am really, really hoping that someone is going to step in and teach our child good sportsmanship, because I am cutthroat competative and Rob is just a friggin LIAR.

2. About Boggle. I buy it on Ebay. The seller claims that it's new. Except that there's tape all over the box, the shakey-dome is cracked in two places, and it friggin says $1.49 on the side in sharpie, a'la garage sale-style. Liar, liar, liar! I want my $8.59 back!

3. Erin's eating a Spinach salad the other night at dinner and Sierra looks across the table and innocently asks "So. How are your leaves?"

4. We're painting the baby room today! Those of your who are familiar with my painting skills will look forward to seeing this, I'm sure.

5. That is all for now. I'm working on building my blogging muscles back up again.

2009-01-22T08:34:00.007-05:00

Another Bedtime Story

So, contrary to what you would think, bedtime might be the most stressful time of my day. This is because the minute I lay down, I start remembering all of these time-sensitive things that I didn't do yet, and will probably forget to do if I don't get up and write myself a note right then. Keeping a pad of paper on my nightstand doesn't work, because I never remember that I wrote myself a note. It has to be on my desk, staring at me when I sit down in the morning. Anyways, I would estimate that I get up and write myself sticky notes about three times a night.
Or, I would estimate that I USED to. Then I found the awesomest thing of all time: Jott. It's like this: You call this toll free number and a computer girl comes on and says "What do you want to Jott?". Then you just say whatever it is you want to remember, like "pay the phone bill", and the voice recognition software turns your voice into text and EMAILS and TEXTS your note to you, AND adds it to your To-Do list. This is also awesome because I tend to remember things when I'm driving a lot, and now I just call myself. You can even have Jott send you a reminder at a certain time.
This would all be awesome if it weren't for Rob.
Yes, Rob again, ruining my perfect plans.
Here's what happens.
I'm lying in bed, and I remember something, so I reach over onto my nightstand and call Jott. Computer lady comes on and says "What do you want to Jott?"
Before I can open my mouth, Rob, who is laying right next to me, says "EAT TANGERINES!"
Then Jott lady says "Got it. Do you want a reminder?"
I now have an email that says "Reminder: Eat tangerines."
It's kind of amazing, because you have to talk pretty clearly to get them to hear you, but Rob must be talking loud enough, or he must be close enough, because it works at least half of the time. Okay, maybe only about one in four times, but nonetheless, I have a friggin reminder that says "eat tangerines". One in four is plenty.
It's like I've been cursed, but I'm still on Earth.
Between laughing hysterically and Rob yelling things, it took me 3-4 tries to get myself a note that says "make the car payment". He must have been on a circus theme last night though, because I recall him yelling "Shoot myself out of a cannon" and "Buy really big shoes." Luckily, neither of those things made it onto the list.

2009-01-18T16:03:00.002-05:00

PUBLIC ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF THE AWESOMENESS OF RYAN

Okay, so one else even tried to come up with new rhyme-y phrases. But let's be serious- If you had, Ryan would have schooled you. Coming in with a whopping 106 entries (though, I will admit, some of them are questionable, Ryan:) ) Ryan takes home the prize of a $5 Biggby gift card. The judges (me) were particularly fond of "Dumb Quaker". Nothing against Quakers, but that phrase just sounds funny...

2009-01-11T22:48:00.003-05:00

A Fun Game You Can Play At Home

Last night, we're lying in bed (do you get the feeling that this is where most of my stories happen? Not sure what that's all about..), when Rob starts singing the Heartbreaker song, which you have heard many times, though you may not remember. It goes like this:
You're a
Heartbreaker!
Dream-maker!
Love-taker!
Don't you mess around with me.

And then we keep making up new ones, trying to top one another. This goes on for about a half hour. Here's what we came up with:
Bread baker
Rump shaker
L.A. Laker
Cake maker
Goodness saker
Cold faker
Pipe snaker
Snow flaker
Tent staker
Record breaker
Old Quaker
Muckraker
Pattycaker
Test taker

This is an addictive game, I will warn you ahead of time, but you should try and come up with some. Rob and I are committed to giving a $5 Biggby gift card to whoever comes up with the most. Redeemable only at the Biggby where stalker girl works.

2009-01-10T11:47:00.005-05:00

Rob v. Penny

It's like this: Rob loves the dog. Let me rephrase that: Rob LOVES the dog. Only all-caps can explain it.
He talks to her all the time, throws her little bits of whatever he's making for dinner, even the meatballs which could have killed her being that they were full of onion, takes her on walks every day (where he claims they "talk"), gets up at 5am to feed her every morning, etc. Rob wants the dog to sleep on the bed with us, which I have forbidden. He routinely says "Penny, I just love you. You're an important part of this family." Then I roll my eyes and tell her to get off the bed.

But it's also like this: the dog loves me.

No explanation. I like the dog, but it's nowhere near an all-caps situation. More of a tentative, lowercase italics type of thing. Mostly she pisses me off because:
1. She stinks.
2. She forgets that she's potty trained from time to time
3. She WHINES
4. She stinks.
5. She tries to beat up on dogs 10 times her size.

I yell at her a lot. It sounds like this:
"Penny. You're disgusting. You smell like a trash can."
Doesn't matter. She LOVES me. If she gets up on the bed, she instantly makes a beeline for me and curls up right beside me. I mostly ignore her. If I'm feeling charitable, I'll pet her a little bit. Until she tries to lick me with trash can mouth; then all bets are off. Rob then says "Penny! Penny!" and pats his chest. She stares at him. "Come here, Penny!" She turns her head the other way, lays it on my back, and stares out the window. This morning when I got up from bed, instead of switching over and lying next to Rob, she just decides to get off the bed.

So we're laying there, and Rob has spent the last 10 minutes or so trying to get her to come lay by him when he suddenly just stops.
It should be said that Rob and I have been together for 9 years now, and I know where he's going with something about 2 seconds after he does.
I say "You're trying to ignore her, aren't you?"
Silence
I say "You think that if you ignore her like I do, she'll start loving you."
Rob says "I don't know who you're referring to."
10 minutes go by. Rob says NOTHING to Penny. It's like a world record, considering that Penny is the true love of Rob's life. Penny seems okay with it.

So anyways, there's a stand off now. Rob is not speaking to Penny. Penny doesn't even notice. I know that Rob's serious because he later took out a bag of lunch meat to make a sandwich and DIDNT GIVE HER ANY. I also know how it's going to end, though:
"Penny! Penny! Want to go on a walk? Come here Penny!"
He can try, but you just can't deny all-caps love, even if it's unrequited.

2009-01-03T20:25:00.002-05:00

My Pick For Worst Song in Recent Memory

is "Loosen Up My Buttons" by the Pussycat Dolls

Justification:

1. What it reminds me of is the bad jokes that people tell after Thanksgiving dinner, like "Man! I'm about to pop a button!" So then, Pussycat Dolls (WTF is a pussycat doll, by the way?), I picture you all as huge, fat men in overalls. It is a miracle that Weird Al Yankovic hasn't parodied this song yet.

2. How does one loosen a button? It isn't like a screw, my friend. Maybe that's your problem right there. Maybe it's not his fault at all, maybe you just don't know how to use buttons.

3. Lyric: "I'm a sexy mama"
You should know that no one says this with a straight face. Ever.

4. Lyric: "You've been saying all the right things all night long
But I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off"
Again, you're a fat man with overalls, but now you sound like you have limited mobility, which makes me feel like you're also old. Probably you have a cane. That's sexy. Sexy like a sexy mama.

5. Lyric: "You say you're a big boy
But I can't agree
'Cause the love you said you had
Ain't been put on me"
Where to even start? First, "you're a big boy"? There is something creepy and vaguely pedophile-ish about your word choices.
Second, "put on me"? Now I picture your love as a giant anvil in a road runner cartoon.

6. Lastly, I saw you performing on Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve. How come only one of the five of you sing? What's wrong, other four? (Pussy) Cat got your tongues? I have this feeling the rest of you can't sing. To which I say, how hard is it to find four other attractive girls who can dance and also sing? I don't think it's that hard. It seems like there are a lot of dancer/singers out there.

Banished.

2008-12-31T15:39:00.010-05:00

An Open Letter to the Biggby Coffee Girl

Dear Biggby Coffee girl,
Listen. It's not that I don't enjoy our chats. Even though you've asked me twenty times whether I'm having a girl or a boy, and whether I'm going to have the epidural (which, just for future reference, is a weird and slightly invasive question), I'm still fine with it. But today you took it a step too far. The comments "You're getting bigger every day" (...thanks?), and "You've got three months left? Are you worried your stomach is going to get really huge?" (Well, I wasn't.. but now I'll go home and cry about it. My husband is going to love you.)? Well, they were a bit much.
I know this is going to come as a shock to you, but we don't know each other. Yes, I know your name. I even know how it's spelled, which brings me to the subject of phonetics and how they failed you, but that's a blog for another day. And yes, you've told me ALLLLLLL about your pregnancy, even went so far as to tell me how you found out you were pregnant (missed period.. usually a tell-tale sign). The truth is, I think you would be shocked by how many women get pregnant every year. It's actually not just you and me. This is the way the world repopulates itself, which leads to coffee drinkers, which is why you're employed, which is why you live another day to haunt me with your terrifying questions. But if you feel that your connection with me has to do with the fact that we've both experienced pregnancy, let me tell you, you've got a connection with a lot of other people. What I'm getting at is, I do not want to have confessional time with you simply for this reason.
What you might also not know is that I avoid you. Constantly. Luckily for me, there are about five Biggbys in this town, and I'll often drive out of my way to go to another one. The only way that I go to yours is if I am almost directly in front of it and a mini-sized Al Gore is sitting on my shoulder telling me that wasting gas to avoid you is WRONG WRONG WRONG, Earth-killer Laura! You're really driving business away. A lot of business, as I drink a lot of coffee. Decaf, unfortunately. Remember that time that I came through the drive thru and, even after you gave me my coffee, I sat there for three extra minutes while you told me about your due date, while a line of cars piled up behind me? You should know that, after I finally escaped, my husband, sitting next to me in the car, said "What the hell was that?" And that, Biggby Girl, is when I knew I wasn't insane. That in fact it was YOU who is insane.
In conclusion, I won't be coming in anymore. Based on the trend of more personal questions each visit, I'm afraid that you're going to eventually ask to deliver my baby. I'm uncomfortable with that. It was interesting knowing you. Maybe just stick to brewing the coffee.
Best,
Laura

2008-12-31T09:10:00.004-05:00

All About the Grocery Store

I've discovered my #1 pet peeve of all time. It is this:
If you are one of those people who pick up a refrigerated or frozen item, say milk or cheese, then decide later on in the store that you no longer want said item, but you're too lazy to return it to it's refrigerated environment, and so you just drop it on any old shelf, maybe between the Frosted Mini-Wheats and Cheerios... well.. then I hate you.
Sorry, no two ways about it.
People, that is RUDE. Whatever you just put down is RUINED because you're LAZY. Sometimes I pick up after you! This week I returned a poor, scared thawing bag of frozen corn to my grocer's freezer because someone traded it out for CANNED corn (yes, I can follow your evil little thought patterns, depraved members of society.) First of all- really? Canned corn over frozen corn?? Glad I don't live in your house. Canned corn is salty and discolored. Secondly, RUDE! The canned corn aisle is only two or three away from the frozen vegetable aisle!! I'm sure you're busy and all. So busy you probably shouldn't even be grocery shopping. Also, you're probably missing Jerry Springer. Go home.

In Addition:

Why does all of America feel that it's okay to air marital disputes in the grocery store? I kid you not, if you want to see the scary state of marriages in this country, you should just go to Meijer.
Dear fighters:
I CAN STILL HEAR YOU.
EVERYONE can hear you.
Why don't you tell him what a lousy bastard he is in your six inch voice?
I have a lot of personal space issues, so I guarantee you, I am more than six inches away.
Listen, I'm not talking about a little healthy debate. Personally, I like to debate pretty much everything Rob says to me. Keeps him on his toes. I'm talking PROFANITY and LOUD NOISES!
After careful research: The two aisles that seem to produce the most domestic strife:
1. The beer/wine/mixer aisle
2. And, inexplicably, the frozen food aisle (I don't know..maybe because people are cold in that aisle? I, for one, get much crankier when I'm cold)
3. Honorable mention: There's often a ruckus in the cheese/milk/yogurt aisle.
Hopefully this will help you to avoid some confrontations.

Really, though, please stop. You're making people feel weird. Sometimes, I walk into an aisle where people are fighting and for a second I start to turn around, like I accidentally walked in on something. Then I remember that I'm in a GROCERY STORE. Go fight in an aisle where I'm not shopping. For instance, automotive. I'm never in the automotive aisle. Or, the aisle with all the fish tanks. I hate fish.

Also.
Why do the condoms have to be by the toothpaste in Meijer? Because, see, it makes me feel weird about buying toothpaste. It kind of makes me avoid buying toothpaste, actually. Because the condom/toothpaste/pregnancy test aisle are all in the same far corner of my Meijer, and if you're heading that way, it's kind of assumed where you're going. Look, I get it. I'm 27. I should be over it. For God's sake, I'm pregnant, I should REALLY be over it. Buuuuutttt.. I'm not. And I don't want to sue Meijer for my cavities. So let's move the toothpaste over by the body wash, shall we?

And, in conclusion:
Me: I've been spending a lot of time in the grocery store lately.
Rob: That's because you're finally learning your place, baby.

F.u.n.n.y.

2008-12-18T17:19:00.001-05:00

In Bed the Other Night...

Me: What's on your mind?
Rob: ..dramatic pause.. *sigh*..John Leguizamo
Me:.....why?
Rob: I hope he's alright...

silence.

2008-12-17T11:32:00.002-05:00

Laura's New Years Resolutions

1. I will cease blatantly staying in the fast lane to piss off the asshole who is riding my bumper, despite the fact that I'm clipping along at 5 miles over the speed limit, as my mom recently pointed out that it could lead to me being run off the road and killed in some unseemly manner. Moms: so smart, so right.

2. I will return library books on time. Or, if they're late, I will have at least cracked the cover, considering I'll be paying the fine.

3. I will mop my kitchen floor more often.

4. [this is the space where I promise not to buy coffee every morning, but I'm taking it out already, since I know it's not going to happen.]

5. I will stop doing things like blogging about New Years resolutions in order to avoid school work or writing.

6. I will stop doing things specifically to irritate my sister, such as saving all the dog trading cards out of Penny's dog food and mailing them to her as if she's collecting them.

7. I will charge my phone.

8. I will try to respect the fact that Rob is a vampire and wants the curtains closed at all hours of the day.

9. I will stop being so anti-social, and I'll make an attempt at not being so sarcastic, but it won't work.

10. I will stop letting Facebook consume my every waking hour. I will stop letting Facebook consume my every waking hour. I will stop letting Facebook consume my every waking hour.

2008-12-11T20:07:00.002-05:00

I'm Anti-Social and Things I've Grown Tired Of

About the anti-social thing...
Last week I get this idea. I will make cookie trays as Christmas presents. I don't have an money, and we can give them to our neighbors too and blah blah blah. Apparently I was feeling both jolly and domestic. So I make the trays. I make O Henry bars and mint fudge and butter cookies and these.. other cookies. Then I cut them up and put them on plates and put little bows on them and nametags and they look nice. Then I realize that, to hand them out, I'll have to go talk to people. If you don't know why this is a problem yet, you maybe don't know me that well. I don't like talking to people. It has nothing to do with them. It's 100% me and my hermity self. Unfortunately, Rob is also kind of anti-social. I tell him "Go drop off the cookies Rob, I did all the baking." You see I really do want them to have the cookies, I just want them to have them without me talking to anyone in the process. If it were no unbelievably weird, I would stick the plates in their mailboxes. But it is.
Rob and I stand there in the kitchen, making deals. Here's what happens. I eventually have to bribe him. I promise to take him to Qdoba for lunch if he'll take the cookie trays, though I don't really even win that much, because he'll only do it with me, not for me.
And next year everyone will be getting Christmas cards instead.

And things I've grown tired of...

Here was my plan. When I found out I was pregnant, I did some reading up. According to my internet sources, caffeine is pretty much a no-go in the quantities that I drink it. Meaning no more espresso drinks. Okay. But wine.. according to most of the places I went, after the first trimester wine is okay if you drink it in small amounts infrequently. So I look forward to this. I look forward to this for three months as I am drinking absolutely no wine. I am also no longer running, which means that all of my favorite de-stressing things (caffeine, wine, running) are no longer allowed. But then the second trimester arrives. Beautiful, beautiful second trimester. So I start having one glass of wine per week. This is wonderful and satisfying until my doctor says, in no uncertain terms, no. Actually, despite what I've read to the contrary, on the internet and elsewhere, Dr. Doom tries to make it sound like one glass a week is going to result in a retarded baby. So, I stop. No more wine for me. I won't lie to you, it sucks.
But you know what sucks even more than missing all of those things? Coming across articles on pregnancy websites that say ridiculous things like "Instead of having a glass of wine at night, try to find some relaxing alternatives. For instance, take a warm bath or listen to some relaxing music."
I get it. I can't have any wine, or espresso, and I can't do my half marathon training this year. I'm not debating these facts. I'm not even trying to get around them, which is completely unlike me. I've come to grips with it. But don't tell me to go take a #$%^ing bath instead. Really? Have you had caffeine or wine? Have you then, in your little, tiny, full-of-suggestions mind, compared this to taking a bath? One of these things is not like the other, my friend. Your suggestions make me want to punch you. After I punch you, instead of punching me back or seeking medical attention, maybe you could take a nice warm bath. Or listen to some relaxing music. Won't that be nice?
Fool.

2008-12-03T11:41:00.002-05:00

Fools!
(Things irritating me this week...)

1. I'd like to preface this by saying that VH1 is the only reasonable thing on the TV channels at the gym. Today while I was on the treadmill, "Real Chance at Love"(?) was on. What the hell is this? Have you SEEN this? It's so dumb that its existence actually pisses me off. GIRLS! Why are you after those two? They're not hot! And one of them is REALLY STUPID. Like you're really in love with them? DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR LIFE.

2. On the way out of the gym today, I looked in the Toys for Tots box. Someone put a water noodle in there. I want you to think about that. A water noodle. A pool toy. What are the chances that a child receiving something from Toys for Tots has a swimming pool? I sure as hell didn't have a swimming pool growing up. Which means that, if they don't have a swimming pool, you just gave them a large piece of FOAM for Christmas.

2008-12-01T10:07:00.002-05:00

Dear Owners of Restaurants Named "Blimpie's", "Chubby's", "Tubby's", "Fat City" or the Like-

I think you're missing a crucial truth. People don't want to feel fat. Pretty much ever. Even if we know we're making a poor food choice, we like to somehow delude ourselves. But when you name your restaurant something that reminds us that we are in fact eating something with the potential to pack on a few pounds, we avoid you. Like the plague. We go to places like Subway or Panera or even McDonald's; places where the food is just as bad, if not worse, for us. But at least it's not being thrown in our faces. At least we can enjoy our cheeseburger while we're eating it and feel bad about it later. Not so much with you.
I want you to think about your logic here. I like second hand stores. But I don't think I'd name it "Someone Else's Old Stuff they Didn't Want". That would be a bad idea. It's a tad too real. Where's the flowery delusion?
Consider it. Come find me when you've come to a decision. I'll be at Panera. Which sounds French or something, you may have noticed. Makes me feel all exclusive and multi-cultural.
Love,
Laura

2008-11-23T12:49:00.000-05:00

Rob says: (new weekly segment)

"Foolish? He shouldn't even use that word. That's totally arbitrary. It's like me saying "Chocolate is dumb". "

2008-11-17T10:45:00.003-05:00

Mookies

So. Last night we decided to make some cookies. Rob thinks I have some kind of magical cookie making abilities, because last time he made cookies they turned out completely flat, like sheet cake flat, and then I made them and they turned out fine. Between you and I, I have no cookie making abiilities whatsoever. I use the recipe off the back of the chocolate chip bag.
Anyways, we get to making them, and we pull them out of the oven...and they're flat. WTF. Maybe there's a problem with my baking soda. We never really throw anything out, and as I was opening a can of beans a few weeks ago, I noticed that it was a brand that was sold at this place in New York where we used to grocery shop. Which means that we hauled that can of beans back here from New York, which makes it at least 2.5 years old. It is entirely possible that this is the case with the baking soda as well.
We sit there and stare at our flat cookies and Rob gets this *brilliant* idea. You're going to need to provide your own visual on this one. Please imagine a little kid on Christmas morning. I hate this stupid phrase, but really, his eyes are like.. shining.
Rob wants to put the cookie batter into a muffin pan. That way, they won't be flat anymore. Muffin cookies.
"So, Mookies?" I say.
So we do it. We put the batter in, put it in for the regular amount of time, voila.
Then things take a turn for the worse.
I don't know about you, but whenever I take muffins out of the oven, I like to turn the pan upside down and let the muffins fall out. There's something really satisfying about bouncing muffins. So I do that.
But it seems that mookies take a little longer to cook than regular cookies. At that point, they were still creme-filled mookies. So I've got a pan full of centerless mookies, and my counter is covered in cookie batter. Which I think is hilarious. I would say I get a kick out of about 90% of the crap I screw up.
So I turn to Rob, laughing.

It becomes clear at this point that I grossly underestimated just how excited Rob was about the mookies. I think maybe he really thought he was on to some kind of culinary revolution here. Like our ship had finally come in, and it was the S.S. Mookie.

Rob is PISSED.

WHY DIDNT YOU CHECK THEM BEFORE YOU DID THAT???

I can't help it, I'm still laughing. Rob is not. There is mookie everywhere.

Eventually, he realizes that he's yelling at me about cookies in a muffin pan and gets over it. Then we try the mookie remains and they're gross. Like cake gone wrong.

And the moral of the story is don't count your mookies before they hatch. And don't haul baking soda around for five years.

2008-09-25T10:05:00.002-04:00

5 Minutes Too Late...

Don't you hate it when you think of something clever to say after the fact? So I pull up to the coffee shop today, and I'm parked behind this big utility van with a sticker on it that says "A vote for Obama is a vote for Osama." Okay, listen. I don't care if you prefer McCain over Obama (well, I mean, I care, but...), but that sticker is just pure ignorance. So I go inside and I see the van leave, and then I think I totally have paper and tape in my car!! Wouldn't it have been sweet if I had made them a little homemade bumper sticker that said "I heart ignorance" and taped it up there beside their bumpersticker? They would have driven around all day before they realized it was there.

2008-08-07T18:25:00.004-04:00

2008-06-24T10:49:00.013-04:00

On My Honor

1. I went to the dentist yesterday and, yet again, despite the fact that I routinely abuse my teeth, rarely floss, and drink too much coffee, I have no cavities. I swear this time that I will start taking better care of them. I will floss on a (near) daily basis. My luck is about to run out in the teeth department.

2. I could never EVER be a dental hygienist. Forget all of the hands in someone else's mouth stuff. Even worse than that. If your hands are sitting there right outside the mouth, holding the mirror and scrapy-thing, you know that you are getting nose breath on your hands. You know exactly what I'm talking about. The thought of someone nose breathing on my hands makes me want to vomit. I tried to hold my nose breathing to a minimum the entire time I was there yesterday.

3. So, as another entry into my own personal series of unfortunate events, my microwave threw in the towel yesterday. Had the damn thing for seven years, at six different apartments/houses and it chooses to give up now? Anyhow, I was looking on bestbuy.com for a new one... You know, it's been seven years since I bought one, so maybe I'm not up on things, but I happen to remember my parents buying that microwave for me for $60 at Sam's. Stupid Best Buy microwaves are like $200-$300!!! What exactly does a $300 microwave DO? Stupid thing better be a Transformer (robot in disguise) for $300! LISTEN, ALL I WANT MY MICROWAVE TO DO IS HEAT THINGS UP. Keep your robot world domination. Don't you know that microwave popcorn is one of my major food groups? I am languishing without it.

4. I got to photograph the Parcell/Stotts wedding a few weekends ago. My super duper rob-created photo gallery isn't working right now, but here are a few of my favorites:

2008-06-21T10:47:00.003-04:00

Riddle Me This

So the parking brake is supposed to be the super-strong brake, right? As in, if you're on a hill and you need extra brakes, you pull out the big guns, the parking brake.

So, if the parking brake is so strong, explain to me why I can drive all over town with it on, without even noticing. I don't think the parking brake does anything. I think it's a sham. We're all being had, people.

2008-06-20T15:47:00.003-04:00

I feel as if we can be honest here. I am broke. I am broke because, last week, I was at my summer job (which mind you was a sweet gig because it filled the gap between the end of this past semester and the beginning of the coming semester almost perfectly) and my boss-like-person walked up to me and casually said "oh, hey. looks like today's going to be your last day. They cut the funding for your position."
I thought he was joking, so here's me: hahahaha.
FOOL, LAURA! FOOL!
Anyways, no job.
So today we're driving around today and it's like garage sale MANIA. I'm like "Awesome, way to taunt me, because you know I can't spend money on garage sale stuff right now."
But then I see this sign for a book sale.
Book sale! I say. I can go to a book sale! First of all, I love books. It would be fun just to look through them. Second of all, they sell used books at garage sales for about a quarter. Quarters I have. I can do quarters.
So I actually make Rob turn the car around so we can go back to the book sale.
This is a good place to remind you that my eyesight is HORRIBLE. I believe my prescription is +5.75. I bet I'm legally blind.
So, we turn around, and there's the sign for the book sale, HOORAY BOOKS!!, except that just as we're turning, I notice that it actually says block sale. No books. Only blocks.
And so we went home.

2008-06-03T09:12:00.001-04:00

Your Tuesday Irony

Bumper sticker on a car parked in the mall parking lot:
Break the chains! Shop at independent stores!

2008-06-02T19:28:00.001-04:00

It's all fun and games until Rob makes you want to smack him

Rob: You put away the Scrabble game?? WHY?!
Me: ...it's been two weeks and you haven't played a word
Rob: I was thinking!

2008-05-29T18:40:00.002-04:00

The reason I don't have any of those applications on Facebook where you can give people presents is because they're ANNOYING as all hell. It's like a gigantic tease. For instance, you can give someone a Mrs. Fields' cookie. WHO THE CRAP WANTS A PRETEND COOKIE? When you give me a pretend cookie, I get pissed off because now I want a real cookie, but it's just a MEGABYTE cookie. And you actually get excited for a split second before it registers that it isn't a real cookie. How freaking unsatisfying is that???

2008-05-29T08:45:00.003-04:00

Participatory Blogocracy
0. Finish the following sentence in the comments section:
"The truth is..."
1. Dude. Computer is on its last leg. Need a new one. Someone send me $300. Check or money orders only. This blog is not free and it's time to pay up.
1.5 Okay, it's free.
2. WERE MOVING THE ISLAND TONIGHT. And I'm not telling you where we're moving it to. And then I'm supposed to wait until... January?
3. New job = 4 hours/day of me highlighting things. Who doesn't love highlighters? Big bonus: No one in this office talks. It's like my hermit anti-social dream come true. Soon I will discover how to turn my computer just so, so that no one can tell I'm playing Scrabulous all day. And then it will be ON, Dad.
4. My sister is ruining my life by refusing to let me blog about her job.
5. Got a new bike. Biking is hard. I would much rather run five miles than bike five miles. Running doesn't hurt my butt.

2008-05-22T06:44:00.001-04:00

Stuffwhitepeoplelike.com called out me and my one bumper sticker today.

2008-05-14T13:57:00.003-04:00

Funniest Things Of My Life. This Week.

1. I never would have gone for Forgetting Sarah Marshall, but Danny told me it was good. I know to listen to Danny's funniness opinions, because they are impeccable, because I spent my whole life teaching him all that he knows. Except the science-related stuff. That stuff is boring and he learned it all on his own. Anyways, the movie was really freaking hilarious. Sometimes, it was hard to hold it together, but I did, because I was simultaneously fearing for my life. I went to see the movie at 2pm, by myself because I wasn't working. I was the only one in the theatre for a while until a middle-aged man walked in and sat a few rows up. From then on, I pictured him sneaking up behind me with a bit of rope and choking me to death, with no one to hear me scream. Luckily, it turned out he was just there to see the movie and not to kill me.

2. Stephen Colbert. again.
Particularly this:

2008-05-13T11:46:00.001-04:00

Awesomest thing a fourth grader said to me yesterday when I was subbing

"This is boring! B-O-R-R-I-N-G, boring!"

2008-05-04T13:45:00.002-04:00

A Thing Or Five

1. To papasan or not to papasan?
The truth is, I do not think that papasan chairs are attractive in any way. But, they are the most comfortable chair on earth. And they're perfect for my sunroom. So. Papasan? No papasan? Form over function? These are the things I deal with on a daily basis.

2. I just beat my dad at Scrabulous
Now he has beat me once and I have beaten him once. The third game will tell who is more scrabtastic.

3. I worry that the rap video girls are going to have serious knee problems when they get older. I don't know if you've ever tried to 'get low', but it's very taxing on your knees. I feel as if whoever sings that song (Is that Nelly? It sounds like Nelly to me. I am so uncool.) shouldn't be promoting it.

4. I love my clothesline. So much.

5. I do not love my flowerboxes, which have failed to bloom.

2008-05-03T21:47:00.007-04:00

Graduation, Etc.

I have a camera that works now. Okay, I borrowed a camera that works. Regardless. Pictures.

2008-04-27T17:27:00.003-04:00

If You Are Famous For Nothing, You Don't Exist To Me

For example:
Heidi Montag from The Hills. Also, Lauren Conrad. Why are you famous? Why does anyone know your name?
Also:
Paris Hilton
Ryan Secrest
Rob and I can't think of any more examples, but here are the rules: From now on, you must DO something to be famous.
For example:
Act really well!
Write a book!
Sing so wonderfully it makes me want to cry.
Cure AIDS!
Negotiate peace!

I don't care. But getting 20 DUIs does not count, nor does being the call girl that a senator slept with.
Be serious.
Honestly, I'm not even being that hard on you. If you invented the Pogo Ball, I am 100% fine with you being famous. That Pogoball was fun. Who would have thought of that?
Not me.
Which is why I'm not famous.
And I'm fine with that.

2008-04-24T08:26:00.002-04:00

HOLY. CRAP.

There is this poor teenage girl sitting behind me in the coffee shop who is with her dad for Take Your Daughter to Work Day. I know this because he announced it to everyone when he walked in. And he is embarrassing the HELL out of her. First of all, he is talking SO LOUD. Secondly, he's a salesman of some type and he keeps saying to the person he's talking to on the phone "Can you feel my pain sister? Can you help me out sister?". He is a middle aged caucasian male.
I feel for you, poor girl. If you want, you can come to work with me instead! Basically, what we do is check our email and write stories. And never, ever, do I say "Can you feel my pain, sister."

2008-04-23T15:43:00.002-04:00

Dinosaurs Among Us

Last year, I proposed the idea that Suze Orman might actually be a velociraptor. I would now like to extend this possibility to Hillary Clinton. The proof is in the picture, people.

2008-04-23T12:41:00.004-04:00

What Terrifies Me Is...

When people use old farming equipment for decoration by hanging gigantic sycthes on the outside of their garage. What it says to me is "DONT COME NEAR OUR HOUSE OR WERE GOING TO TORTURE YOU WITH WIERD METAL INSTRUMENTS, THEN CUT OFF YOUR HEAD WITH THE SYCTHE!"
More or less, I mean.
And I see it A LOT.
I hope those people don't have kids. Because if we had had that stuff hanging on my garage when I was a kid, I would have had a scythe straight through the middle of my head in no time.

2008-04-23T09:22:00.001-04:00

Why is saying "I will fist fight you" so much funnier than saying "I will fight you"? Really, there's nothing terribly funny about fists. And yet...

2008-04-19T12:32:00.003-04:00

I LOVE Garage Sales

Today's finds:
4 drawer filing cabinet in great shape: $20
6 foot fiberglass ladder: $30
pruning shears: $1
Awesome deals, right?
What my dad would say, though, is "How much would it have cost you if you hadn't bought it at all?"

2008-04-15T19:38:00.003-04:00

What Creeps Me Out Is...
When I write something, say, the beginning of a story, and when I open the file up a few days later, I have absolutely no recollection of anything I wrote.

Also, John McCain's wife.

Right. There used to be this post here about what does 'it went down the wrong tube' mean. Then I was talking to Rob about it. Turns out you have both a food pipe and a wind pipe and they're seperated by a flap of skin, and apparently this is common knowledge. And I'm an ass. I don't usually erase posts, but I was feeling a bit embarrassed about that one. Forget it ever happened.

2008-04-09T19:57:00.003-04:00

Literally.

I am here today to talk about the abuse of the word 'literally'. This is a serious social problem plaguing our society. You can not just throw it haphazardly into any old sentence. Take, for instance, this conversation overheard today in the LCC cafeteria:

"Trust me, man. You don't go to that class, it will bite you in the ass. Karma is literally a bitch."

The only way that I can think of for that to be a good use of literally is if the professor of that class is named Karma.

I do not believe that that is the case. If it is, I will most certainly apologize

2008-04-07T09:02:00.003-04:00

Here's the post where I hate on songs

Everyone loves that "Love Song" song. It's nice and all, but here's my problem: the only reason that 'today' comes at the end of the verse is to rhyme with 'stay'. I HATE that. I HATE when you can tell someone is trying to rhyme. If she wrote the exact same song and didn't need to rhyme with 'stay', she would have left 'today' off. Because it doesn't sound right. And so I banish this song.
End of story, the decision has been made.

2008-04-02T11:06:00.003-04:00

I'm almost afraid to post this
Okay, but before you go, be warned: You have to be willing to make fun of yourself. Because if you're not, you'll be offended. Check the comments on the page, LOTS of people are offended. But I don't think they should be. It's hysterical. And it hits a little too close to home. Except for #52 (Sarah Silverman, whom I despise) and #10 (Wes Andersen movies, which I don't like). My favorite is #83 (Bad memories of high school).
Okay. Here it is.

2008-04-01T11:16:00.003-04:00

Tuesday Morning at Tuesday Morning

Today I went to Tuesday Morning for the first time. Quite appropriate, since it's Tuesday Morning. It was cool. Like TJ Maxx, only less crap and less mess. Also, less 'x's.

And I found something I liked. Explain this to me. It was a 16x20 wall.. canvas. Olive green (which, as you know, I own). And it has the alphabet on it. Not little kid nursery alphabet. Like.. adult alphabet. EXCEPT... No 'J' or 'W'. I have no idea why. I also have no idea why it was $70. But let me tell you, I WANTED it. I wanted it bad. Why is the alphabet, sans two letters, art? I don't know, but I like it. I'm still trying to come up with a way to make it not $70. Don't tell Rob. He wouldn't buy it for $7.

On the way home, I passed the old Mi Ranchito, which went out of business. I've got nothing against Mi Ranchito, but I always like it when a business I had no interest in goes out of business, because it means that there's the possibility of a cooler business going in in its place.
No luck.
Michigan Granite and Quarry?
Awesome.
Screw you, give me back Mi Ranchito, which I ate at not even once.

On the same note, I am protesting Office Depot on West Main. You should do the same. What did Office Depot ever do to me? It built a gigantic new store directly across the street from Office Max.
What the hell is the point of that.
Other, cooler things that could have gone in that space:
A bookstore
An Ikea
A warehouse filled with trampolines
Absolutely anything besides another office supplies store

So there. I'll buy my sticky notes elsewhere.

2008-03-20T10:22:00.003-04:00

At the Catholic Services Agency

Instead of calling people 'employees', they call everyone 'co-workers'. I imagine this is some type of 'we're all in this together, we work together' type of thing. But everytime I get a memo that begins "Dear Co-Workers", I can't help but feel like I'm in 1981, with the whole calling each other 'comrades' thing. It actually creeps me out a lot.

Update: Ha. By 1981, I meant 1984. One is the year of my birth, one is a evil society. Easily confused.

2008-03-19T18:04:00.002-04:00

How to Have A Sucky Afternoon in 10 Steps

1. Run 4 miles. When you return to your house, pull the key out of your pocket and realize that, though it looks deceptively similar, it is in fact not your house key. It is a phantom key that fits absolutely nothing.

2. Make sure that your husband is gone at some stupid school retreat and that there is no conceivable way to get into your house.

3. Feel sad.

4. Start walking to your friends house, which is relatively near, to get the spare key. Believe that you can find a shortcut, though you have actually only been to her house once and couldn't really couldn't describe it if asked.

5. Get lost.

6. Go down a private drive which is marked like an actual street. Realize that you are on Richy Rich Lane. Feel wierd. Turn around.

7. Somehow plan it so that richy rich red Beamer lady is coming home just as you are walking out of the drive that leads to her house. Don't make eye contact. Feel like you have committed Grand Larceny, though the only thing you have ever stolen was a 25 cent piece of Bazooka from Benjamin Franklin's when you were a kid (sorry, Mom).

8. Walk all the way back and go the regular route.

9. Be cold.

10. Finally get the key and walk home an hour later.

2008-03-17T22:19:00.003-04:00

Interesting things I learned from Jessica this weekend

(1) It's so cool I almost don't want to tell anyone else. But, in the interest of the greater good, I will. You should go to etsy.com It's a site where people can sell their handmade stuff. Anything! clocks, photographs, jewelry, note cards, etc.
It's the awesomest.

(2) Have you ever heard of a the Rubber Room? In NY, if you're a teacher and you get in trouble, you basically get administrative leave and have to report to one of the 'rubber rooms' until your case is decided. Rubber rooms are basically big empty rooms where you sit with other teachers all day and do NOTHING. Read this, it's fascinating.

2008-03-16T15:39:00.002-04:00

I Can't Wait Until Erin Sees This

She's going to puke on herself. I was going to do my kitchen in this.. I don't know, modern theme? It was nice and all, but I couldn't find any curtains to go along with the whole thing. But I did find these awesome kitschy 1950's flower curtains. So I'm going with that. And I found this. It's simultaneously awesome and COMPLETELY UGLY. I love it. Also, it plays 12 songs.. INCLUDING Fur Elise.
Too late, Erin, I already bought it. Best $14.99 I've ever spent!

2008-03-13T09:40:00.000-04:00

Wow.

This is fascinating.

2008-03-13T08:30:00.004-04:00

The Call Girl Policy

Okay. So Elliot slept with a prostitute. I 'll be honest with you, I really don't care. Granted, you probably shouldn't sleep with prostitutes. But it's the same thing as Bill- why is this news?
Now, Kwamers, on the other hand, I have a problem with. If you get two people fired to cover up your affair, that's uncool.
And really, even if it is news, does the girl's picture really need to be on CNN? I think no. That girl's mom is going to see that. And it's a bad picture.
Last night I told Rob, listen, I want to give you the heads up way in advance- If you get caught with a call girl, I am not standing behind you at the press conference. I am not saying that I support you. Matter of fact, if someone wants to interview me, I'm telling them that you're a ho. On the record. He said if I get caught with a call girl, he's taking the kids and going to grandma's house. Like a will and life insurance, every marriage should have the firm foundation of a Call Girl Policy. Failure to plan is planning to sleep with a prostitute.

2008-03-10T12:01:00.003-04:00

Freecycle yourself a better attitude, rudey!

I use freecycle. It's sweet. What's the awesomest is how you could never possibly guess the crap that people want to take off your hands. Take for instance, the following:
So, about a month ago, we left our recycling bin out by the road after it was emptied. Then it snowed. It snowed a lot. At one point, I went out to the curb with a broom and tried to poke the handle into the snow to figure out where the bin was so I could start digging. No luck. Anyways, it was there for about a month, which meant no recycling.
Meanwhile, things are piling up, which is all fine and good, except for one thing: wine bottles. Rob and I have a glass of wine with dinner each night. If you do the math, if two people have a glass of wine each night, you will go through 3.5 bottles of wine a week. Even that makes you look like an alkie when you put it out to the curb. But after a month? Now you just look crazy. So I'm going, great, I can recycle now, but it looks like we're winos.
Enter freecycle.
This lady posts on there: "Wanted: empty wine bottles". I don't know maybe it's for a craft project. The point is, I'm still recycling the bottles, but my neighbors aren't planning interventions. Brilliant.
But then there's this guy this week who posts: "Wanted: land line phone". I'm like, huh, we've got a nice cordless, caller ID, answering machine phone wasting away in the basement. Why not."
So I offered it to him.
Except now he's being all rude. It's like this: Someone gives me a phone that's about a year old and cost about $50, I'd be like THANKS! I told him he could pick it up Tuesday and he said that wouldn't work, so I said "You can pick it up between 5-7 on Wed or Thur". His email back: "Maybe Wednesday. I need an address".
I'M SORRY! AM I PUTTING YOU OUT? IS MY GIVING YOU A PHONE A BIG HASSLE? HOW ABOUT A THANKS? Why is it that empty wine bottle lady is like "That's perfect! Thanks so much!", but phone guy is all "I'll let you know if that fits with my yoga schedule".

2008-02-28T08:51:00.003-05:00

Things I Suck At

Math
Doing what other people want me to do when what they want me to do is stupid
Not doing what I want to do, even if what I want to do is stupid
Euchre
Not buying lattes
Driving a stick shift
Sitting in a chair for 8 hours
Being sociable
Not swearing
Not making a joke out of everything
Spelling 'museum'
Returning emails and calls, despite the fact that I really enjoy getting them
Chess
Sitting through movies
Shoveling my driveway
Getting places on time
Punctuation
Reading anything 'classic'
Fixing electronic things
Being patient
Not making a joke out of everything
Not looking up spoilers and ruining Lost
Beating Jen at Dr. Mario
Not beating Rob at Dr. Mario
Science

2008-02-27T11:11:00.002-05:00

If your like me- someone who was never really that cool to begin with and is slowly getting older and towards that late twenties age where you're not really up on slang and whatnot- I'd like to make a suggestion. Urban dictionary, my friend. Say, for instance, you were listening to this song and they said 'lay the pipe'. I, for one, am not cool enough to know what that means. Well, my friends, as you may have guessed, it means sex. Now I know. It could have been a bad situation, had I misunderstood this word. For instance, let's say I thought it had something to do with skateboarding, like a half pipe. And then I say to someone, "Man, Tony Hawk can really lay the pipe!" That would have been awkward.
Thank you Urban Dictionary.
I also now know that a 'creeper' is that nasty old guy who hangs out in bars and tries to talk to college kids.
If you don't have a word to look up, they also have a random sampling on the front page.
I would like to mention, however, that knowing what a word means and actually using the word are two totally different things. Under no circumstances do I suggest that you use a word, even if you know what it means.
You will sound like a fool.

2008-02-24T19:03:00.002-05:00

If you take that train under water, we could talk it through...

Feeling Bright Eyes nostaglic this evening.
Wrote a shitty story. But, the good news is, I actually finished a full draft which is virutally unheard of lately. It's a start.

Ran 8 miles yesterday. In 7 degree weather. Go me.
I think the weather is breaking now- It was an astounding 35(!) degrees today. It inspired me to finish painting the kitchen, which is currently sporting three different trim colors. I went out and bought the paint, but by the time I got home and went running and took a shower and ate dinner, the enthusiasm had faded. Maybe tomorrow. Actually owning the paint is the first step.

Next week is Spring Break. Hallelujah.
I like the way hallelujah is spelled. I also like the word 'buoyancy'. Also, the city "Ishpeming".

That's all I got.

2008-02-22T09:38:00.000-05:00

I think that an evil part of my brain is trying to keep me down by preventing me from ever thinking about anything of importance. This would be the song portion of my brain. Often, I will find that I have made up a little nonsense song in my head and that I'm singing it over and over again in my head, like background music. This keeps my brain occupied. For instance, today's song, which I just realized I was singing, is this:
Good Morning!
Good mor-ning-mor-ning-morNING!
Good MORning!
I have been singing this over and over in my head for at least the last hour and half that it took me to drive to Lansing. Imagine everything that I could have accomplished in that time, had I utilized my full brain potential.

On a side note, I like that Ann Coulter is beating out Charlie Manson as the scariest person in the poll.

2008-02-20T19:30:00.002-05:00

Dear brand new Venus Embrace,
You're still a razor. There's only so much you can do with blades and a handle. Relax. Accept yourself. Love yourself. No need to be constantly reinventing yourself as the same thing.
Love,
Lola

2008-02-20T12:21:00.003-05:00

Schadenfreude

For your enjoyment, I offer you the mental picture of Rob and me, in the driveway, trying to push his lifeless POS car into the street (in neutral) so that it can be jumped back to life. Also keep in mind that we don't so much shovel our driveway, so the snow has melted and then reformed as ice, which we now get to push the car over.

Also, Rob won't let us push too fast because the old lady across the street is shoveling her driveway (yes, 80 year old women shovel their driveways, but we dont), and he's convinced the car is going to go barreling down our driveway, cross the street up into hers and kill her.

Hope that gets you through your day.

2008-02-19T18:44:00.005-05:00

Curious What My Top Three Favorite Books Are?

You should have just asked

1. The Catcher in the Rye
2. The Virgin Suicides
3. White Teeth

Right now I'm reading Freakonomics which is fascinating. Fascinating.
I want to know what your top three favorite books are. I am asking.

The other day I went to the library and got some audio books for my commutes to Lansing and Grand Rapids. On a side note, I think I literally have something like 25 items checked out of the library right now. Anyhow, I like to get mellow stuff for the car, because a lot of the time I'll zone out and when I realize it, I have no idea what's going on in the story anymore So, I got a Jodi Picoult book.

My bad.

This has to be some of the worst writing ever. And I quote, "He made her feel like a piece of ripe fruit about to fall off the branch."
I about crashed the car when I heard that.
My hatred is only partially fueled by the fact that she makes an actual living off of writing.

2008-02-17T09:04:00.003-05:00

Lola as Movie Critic

First, you should read Joe's blog about how lame and copycatty all the movies are now. Totally true. One Missed Call= The Ring= Japenese Ring= come on people. Speaking of copycatty, I'm also going to write about movies.

I really liked Juno. A lot of people didn't. I thought it was over the top in places (some of the dialogue= completely unbelievable), but creative and funny and extremely enjoyable overall. What I didn't like about the movie was the music. Hands down the most obnoxious music ever.

Last night we watched "In the Land of Women". When I told Rob what we were watching, he about killed himself. But if you know Rob, then you know that the minute the t.v. is on, he in entranced.

It actually wasn't bad. The grandma was dumb, the premise of him being in MI wasn't great, Sofia was dumb. The dialogue was really good. We were really afraid it was going to be The Upside of Anger all over again. If you didnt see The Upside of Anger, allow me to ruin it for you: This woman is all angry because she believes that her husband left her for his secretary. She's bittery mcbitterton, and then in the end it turns out that he didn't leave her at all, he actually was out back in the woods behind their house and fell or something (? I don't remember, exactly) and died, and no one found him for a year.

Right. Great premise. And then I ask you, where was this guy's car? It took place in MI, so there's a 99% chance that he was driving himself around, as opposed to taking the subway or a taxi. So where's his car? The answer is, if he was at home, his car would be at home. And if his car is at home, you don't even consider the possibility that he might be there too? You don't look around? Not even in the woods behind the house where he frequently walks the dog? You just assume that he left you? Sounds to me, my friend, like you are a schizo.

Friday= Vantage Point, which I have been looking forward to for many months and had better not disappoint.

I just re-signed up for Netflix, because I felt as if Blockbusteronline was jacking me by charging $30/mo. I don't have time to watch $30 worth of movies, so maybe it would be a good deal for someone else, but not so much for me. Anyhow, Netflix has this sweet "watch instantly" thing, where you just press play and BAM! there's your movie.

Going to see Avenue Q this afternoon!

2008-02-14T08:43:00.003-05:00

Sleepless in Seattle is no longer even plausible. First of all, they would have met on the internet. Second, Meg would have gotten to the top of the Empire State Building on Valentine's Day and Tom would have turned out to be a psychopathic killer. Who looked nothing like his profile picture.

Come to think of it, the idea of someone being at the top of the Empire State Building afterhours post-9/11 is completely implausible.

Well, there you go. Nice job, world, way to wreck everything. On that note, Happy Valentine's Day.

This reminds me of a story. Looking through the Sunday paper, I saw an article about one of my kids from last year who was (apparently) involved in a carjacking last week. I'd like to preface this by saying that no one deserves to get carjacked. I'm not blaming the guy, really. But here's the scenario: It's night time, you're driving along, and two guys you don't know flag you down and ask for a ride.
And you say... yes?
Come on, guy. It's not 1950. I'm not even sure that was a good idea in 1950.
Unless you're a cab driver, no one should be getting in your car. I applaud your desire to lend a hand, but,you know.

2008-02-13T20:36:00.002-05:00

Pocket O'Yum

There are so few quality food products out there that I feel as if I need to formally endorse Lean Pockets. Lean pockets, which I had for the first time ever today, are delicious. Try the Three Cheese Chix Quesadilla. To be honest, they were a last resort; I bought them for Rob, but when I left work to get lunch and let Penny out, they were the only thing in there.
They don't taste lean, but don't be fooled; they aren't as lean as you think. I ate both of them and then looked at the back of the box and realized that the portion facts were only for one. But, I figure they're still leaner than if I had eaten the regular hot pockets, which are the same size.
Go get yourself some lean pockets.

My new part-time job. What to say? Everyday I load up my "I heart Planned Parenthood" bag and head off to the catholic services agency. I find this funny, but I guarantee you they couldn't care less. I then proceed to do absolutely nothing. 20 hours a week of nothing. I look up pets on Petfinder.com. I check my bank account. I look up real estate that I'm not going to buy. I email. On Monday I planned my class. This seems like a win-win, but the boredom can drive you to insanity. Plus, no one really needs to sit in a chair for that long. Maybe tomorrow I'll run up and down the stairs a few times. That's good for your butt.

My neighbors have a big front window that they always keep open and I like to make up stories about their life. Today, Jose bought Kate flowers. I saw them through the window. However, there were two different vases full. I wonder what that's about. Either Jose loves Kate a lot or Jose did something bad. For the past many weeks there has been an empty milk carton sitting on their counter. This upsets Rob a lot. We get in the car and he's got this agitated look on his face. "Why don't they throw away that milk carton? It's been there for weeks."

I'm supposed to be writing right now. I am just now finishing "On Writing" by Stephen King, which I was very skeptical about, since I don't really think he's an amazing writer. Though, to be fair, I haven't really given him a chance, and I did have to read The Shining for an American Lit class in college and thought it was pretty interesting. Anyways, I really like this book. It has some pretty good advice, the primary advice being that you write everyday for 2-3 hours, and I've been pretty good about that and I think it's made a big difference. I'm currently working on a story where a woman swallows straight pins.

2008-02-12T09:32:00.000-05:00

DUDE STOLE MY IDEA!

Cheap. Are you under the impression that I'm thinking for free? NO! I (should) get paid to think up these things.
Fine, then. If you're going to take me for granted like that, that's the last time I save the planet. You make your bed, you lie in it my friend. LIE being the operative word.
I have spies everywhere (good job, Jess)- you won't get away with this.

2008-02-10T14:54:00.000-05:00

Twitter

As you can see to the left, I joined twitter. Still though, I don't really understand what Twitter is. I'm telling people what I'm doing all the time and they're following it?
I like the idea and all, but the truth is that I'm just not really all that interesting. After a while, I may need to start making things up. Please don't be offended if I lead you astray.

I like the word 'twitter'.

I also added the "poll" thing, where I get to ask you asinine, irrelevent questions.

You know what's the absolute best? Sharp pencils. There is something so satisfying about a sharp pencil. Same deal with brand new, completely empty notebooks. I felt strongly enough about this that, last week after sharpening a pencil and thinking how nice it was, I opened up my planner and wrote "Things I Love" in the back and, underneath, "sharp pencils".

2008-02-06T21:25:00.000-05:00

Quick Update

Tonight I sewed my very first sewing project ever. In case you're unaware, my mom is a sewing genius. I am here to tell you that that is not a genetic trait.
Really, though, I did okay, except that the edges of my bag handle are fraying. I think this is because I didn't 'grade the seam'. I don't know what that means, but it sounded boring and time-intensive, so I skipped it. Now they're fraying. I give them a grade of 'F'.
But really, it's a handbag that has a lining- I feel that that's pretty intricate. I'm proud of myself. Plus, I was making it for my sister, so she's the one that's going to have to walk around with a bag with frayed edges anyways.

I hate taxes. Let's not talk about it.

That's really all I've got today. It's snowing like crazy here. I feel as if it's never going to stop snowing.

2008-01-28T13:05:00.000-05:00

It's becoming clear that I did something wrong. If I did something wrong to you, I am sorry. Please take your little voodoo pins out of my voodoo stomach. Seriously, truce.
The following things have happened to me:
(1)Passengers side window of my car shattered while being lowered. Now I'm one of those people you see driving around with the plastic over their window and you think to yourself, "Seriously, why don't they get that fixed?"
THEY DON'T GET IT FIXED BECAUSE NO ONE CAN HAVE THE GLASS IN UNTIL TUESDAY MORNING, OKAY?

(2) Had to have a TB test today and literally almost passed out. Nurse guy thought I was insane. I had to lay down. We chatted for a while. He was nice. Seriously, though, if you've ever had a TB test, you know that there is absolutely no pain involved. It's completely in my head.

(3) Got stuck pulling into my driveway. This, of course, is my fault for not shoveling my driveway. But nonetheless. Had to get out, get my shovel, and dig myself out of my own driveway. Awesome.

2008-01-24T12:44:00.000-05:00

Dear Student Loan Lender

If you think that I haven't noticed that I pay every month and yet my principal never goes down, you are incorrect.

I am on to you.
You lent me a lot of money to make my brain big, and now I'm going to use my big brain to expose your little scheme.
Be warned.

2008-01-23T18:52:00.000-05:00

Laura's Super Duper Foolproof Plan to Prevent the Recession, But Please Keep In Mind That She Has Basically No Understanding Of Anything Budget/Fiscally Related.

What if they gave people those rebates that they're talking about, but instead of sending them checks, they sent the rebate loaded onto a DEBIT CARD (like those Visa gift cards you can get), so that people couldn't save the money, they would have to spend it. YES? YES? WHAT? I'M A POLITICAL GENIUS? I thought so, too.

2008-01-22T22:44:00.001-05:00

10 Reasons I Hate Subbing In Elementary Schools

10. Can I go to the bathroom?
9. Can I sharpen my pencil?
8. Why not? Whynotwhynotwhynotwhynotwhynotwhynot?
7. She got to read more than I did
6. No fair
5. That's not how Mrs. XYZ does it
4. Why do your 'n's look like 'h's?
3. He/she called me...
2. NO! I'M AT THE FRONT OF THE LINE! I'M THE SPECIAL PERSON TODAY. (I loathe whoever thought up the special person thing. Whenever I'm subbing the most obnoxious kid in class is always the special person.)

1. Really, though, I mostly hate it because in the back of my mind, I know that I really don't know a lot of this stuff, particularly the math and science, and hell if I remember who Marco Polo was and what he did, and I know, I just KNOW, that I'm going to caught by them eventually.

Yesterday, I went and got my legit Kalamazoo Public Library card reinstated and I seriously feel like I'm so lucky. Libraries are awesome, it's like all this stuff for free. Minus all the fines I end up paying.

P.S. I'm so excited about Lost starting next week I might throw up.

2008-01-20T21:36:00.000-05:00

Answer or I'm never giving you another survey again.

Top three songs that remind you of high school and/or middle school and a story behind at least one of them.

2008-01-19T16:34:00.000-05:00

Hooray!

Since that last post, the "other people" have become official. Probably my blog is what did it.

Sara and Ryan are getting married! Hooray!

Clearly, this summer is the cool summer to get married.

On the non-marriage-related topics:

(1) My teeth got to talking to the rest of my body and now the whole thing is revolting against me. Yesterday I was doubled over in bed all day because my ulcer made a sneaky comeback. Then today, I get all dressed and ready to go to the laundromat (Laura, didn't you just buy a new washer and dryer? Yes, shut up, I don't want to talk about it), I get in the car and start driving, and I CANT OPEN MY EYES. I don't know what the crap that's all about, but all the sudden my eyes are ultra-sensitive to light. I got a mile from my house and had to turn around, and basically almost crashed on the way home, as I tried to pry open my eyes and wipe away all the tears so I could see the road. My eyes are watering just thinking about it.
OKAY TEETH, YOU WIN, ALRIGHT?!?! I'LL FREAKING FLOSS!!!
I could replace you at any time with some nice dentures, FYI.

(2) One last primary thing, and then I'll stop talking about it for at least a week, I swear.
I don't like Mitt Romney either. Stop voting for him.
Your choices are Barack or Hillary. If you must vote for a Republican, you may vote for McCain, I guess.
That's it.
It's good that I don't run a country, because it's clear that I would be one of those dictators that feels that they know what's best for the country and would just take away all their choices. I'd be Castro. And what's worse is, I'm only mildly informed.

2008-01-17T18:38:00.001-05:00

Why the flip are people so on fire for Ron Paul?
Dude gives me the shivers.
Not sure why, just a feeling.
I'd like to get a yard sign. BarackorHillary?BarackorHillary?BarackorHillary? Oh screw it, I'm going to get a Ron Paul sign!

I realized today that I haven't put any house pictures up yet. But our camera battery is dead, we can't find the charger, and you have to have the camera on to upload pictures. So there you have it. That camera is more trouble than it's worth.
Major house improvements, thus far:
All windows, with the exception of the kitchen, have shades up. No more peep show.
Yesterday, I put up a shelf. The process of using a stud finder continues to ellude me. I drill at random.
My office is amazing. Writing= in full swing. For me. More of a leisurely lacksadasical drift compared to others.

Lola's List of Looking Forward To:
*Really looking forward to Run Camp, actually. Someone needs to get my butt in gear. I'm doing a marathon in the fall. Possibly through the Redwoods.
*WEDDINGS!! Lots of weddings!! Jon and Rebecca, Joe and Erin. Also, some other weddings.
*Summer. I have a back yard and a hammock. Soon I will have a vegetable garden. Then my plan will be complete.
*Going to D.C. to see Erin graduate in April. Me+airplanes+top secret academies= love
*I don't usually get all bent out of shape about movies (except Harry Potter), but I cannot WAIT to see both Vantage Point and Stop Loss.
*They're doing "Assassins" @ the Whole Art Theatre in Kzoo. That will be fun.

I realize that John Mellencamp probably already has a fan club and a fan club president, but I'm thinking of planning a coup. I really feel that I am the #1 John Mellencamp fan. He's always really involved in the presidential campaigns, so I looked up who he was supporting today. It wasn't either of the people that I'm supporting. And I thought for a second about changing, before I realized that was the worst possible reason to change an opinion.

2008-01-16T14:42:00.000-05:00

A hot dog is delicious all on its own, but what really makes a hot dog delicious is when you wrap it in something. For instance, a month or so ago, Joe P. and I were at the mall and they were giving out samples of hot dogs wrapped in soft pretzel. It was amazing.

On Monday, I was waiting for my class to start, so I went over to the Einstein Bros. bagel place on campus. I don't think we have very many Einstein Bros. in Michigan, or at least I've never seen any, but it reminded me of last spring when I went to visit Lily in St. Louis and had a hot dog wrapped in a bagel. Also delicious.

This time, though, I just had some Chicken Noodle soup. Because hot dogs wrapped in miscellaneous carbs may be delicious, but they are almost never healthy, just to warn you.

2008-01-14T11:57:00.000-05:00

Engagement Pictures!
Okay, let's be honest. Some of my lighting sucks. That's 1/4 because the light was bad and 3/4 because I'm bad with the technical stuff. I'm taking a KVCC class this semester to re-learn how to do that stuff. Plus, that's what Rob McPhotoshop is for. Nonetheless, these are pretty cute. Here are a few of my favs:

2008-01-13T21:02:00.000-05:00

And I guess that's why they call it the blues!
TIME ON MY HANDS!
Could be time spent with you-oo!

Good song.

Took Erin and Joe's engagement pictures today and I'm super excited about getting them back. Getting them back because, in the move, Rob and I seem to have lost the charger for the digital camera, so I took all the pictures with an actual film camera* (8 rolls!). Which I'm far more comfortable with than a digital camera anyways. Who gets that digital camera focus thing? Not me. Anticipated favorite: went to the Kalamazoo Library, stole a book cart and took pictures of Joe pushing Erin around through the stacks. Classily, though. It's going to be awesome. Don't hate on my pictures.

I'm taking a photography class @ KVCC this semester, and this time I'm actually going to pay attention when they talk about aperature, shutter speed and ISO. I swear.

*actual film camera donated by Gordy. His phrase was "borrowed from" but, after 6 years, "donated by" is probably more appropriate.

2008-01-09T18:59:00.000-05:00

How to Ruin Your Work Ethic

What will ruin you is having one night class and one day class. Period. This leaves Mon-Thur all day, plus the weekend for doing nothing. I'm not really doing nothing. I'm writing, I'm reading, I'm doing work for my classes. I'm painting the trim in my house so I can take the blue tape off of everything so Rob doesn't kill me. But I'm doing it at a leisurely pace and stopping at random times to enjoy a delicious cup of Jello fat-free vanilla pudding.

But that has to end now. Turns out cutting your class load in half also cuts your income in half. I was never good at math, but I guess I should have realized. Blah. Had one interview today, one on Monday. And there's always subbing...
Really, though, the prospect of getting up at an actual time and doing something actual actually makes me feel sick. You go downhill really fast. I have always worked and I've worked many 9-5s. There was one semester where I worked two jobs, a full-time and a part-time. But a few weeks of this and I'm feeling all entitled to my time. What do you mean you want me there at a certain time?

2008-01-08T20:29:00.000-05:00

9 True Statements

(1) My teeth hate me and they're all planning to fall out to get me back for not flossing.
(2) I am excited about the NH primaries. Proof that I'm legitimately old.
(3) John McCain is 75 years old (75!). Or maybe he's 71 and I added the four years to find out how old he would be at the next elections (71!). That's pretty old to be president. This guy they were interviewing on NPR today said "I don't think he's too old to be president this time, but I wouldn't recommend a second term." Really. 71-75 are the crucial four years? I strip your right to vote. Be gone.
(4) Absolute best part of taking a college class: getting the syllabus. It's like your entire semester laid out for you, looking all clean and easy. Ha. Still, though, love the syllabus.
(5) My dog will eat anything. ANYTHING. Bet me. No don't. I don't want to clean it up.
(6) Heather got me some white wine for my bday and it is uber good.
(7) The other day I took Penny on a walk and when I got up to Water Street, I blew my nose and my nose.. piercing (I keep wanting to say 'ring', but I would never put an actual ring in my nose) came all discombobulated and I had to walk home with it all messed up, the stud part sticking out of my nose because if I tried to fix it without a mirror, I would have just torn it out on accident. And I thought about how hard my dad would have been laughing at me if he had seen it.
(8) #1 on my list of #1s? Reeses Snacksters. 100 calories! Peanut Butter goodness!
(9) Just finished this book Open House by Elizabeth Berg that I bought for a quarter at a library sale. Not good. And yet, it was a New York Times Bestseller. This makes me simultaneously mad and hopeful.

2008-01-07T21:43:00.000-05:00

That's Right! I Knew They Loved Me All Along!!

No I didn't. I got my evaluations back from my first semester students today. All during Christmas break I went back and forth about whether or not I should even read them. You know that I'm too nosy to not read them though. So I did. They were so... positive. One kid even called me 'entertaining'. I never felt entertaining. Not once all semester.

2008-01-07T09:54:00.000-05:00

Okay, yeah, I'm being a Beah, but seriously?

Girl at Beaners: Hi! How's your day going??
Me at 9am:... fine.
Girl at Beaners: Did anything exciting happen yet??

Verbatim.

Well, gee golly, not yet, but who knows what the day holds! Maybe peppermint ice cream! Or ponies!

I think those people snort espresso beans in the back.
Also, I've turned into a real sarcastic bitch, but I say embrace who you are.

2008-01-06T19:44:00.000-05:00

Here I Am

It's been like a decade or so. I'm back now. You would think that I would have a lot to say, being that I haven't been on here for a few weeks, but... no. Except that my birthday was few days ago. I always get depressed on my birthday, because it's supposed to be so fun, but birthdays always end up being just another day. So I got my nose pierced to make myself feel better.

Here's what I've learned about the suburbs so far: You have to shovel your driveway a lot. Like, down to the asphalt. Otherwise, you're a bad homeowner.
I shoveled it once, and then I said screw that.

Today I've been wondering a great deal about the song "Every Rose Has Its Thorn"
These are the lyrics, as I remember them:
We both lie silent and still in the dead of the night
We lie close together, but we're miles apart inside
Was it something I said, Something I did
Did my words not come out right?
Oh I tried not to hurt you
Oh I tried
But I guess that's why they say
Every rose has it's thorn
blahblahblah.

Who's supposed to be the rose? Him or her? If he hurt her, shouldn't he be the rose (and therefore, have the thorn)? I find it odd that a guy would call himself a rose. But it doesn't make sense otherwise.
On top of that, the next two analogies (Just like every night has it's dawn/ Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song), are not the same thing as "Every rose has it's thorn". They're not even close. If you were taking the SAT and the question was "Rose is to thorn as" and you chose "night is to dawn", you would get it WRONG WRONG WRONG.
I pass the burden of this conundrum on to you.

2007-12-19T09:05:00.000-05:00

And other neurosis I have...

You know what I love? That UPS tracking system. As in, they send you an email saying 'your package was shipped, click here to track it', and then they show you where it is right now and when it will get to you.
LOVE it. It's EXCITING.
My package is on it's way to Illinois right now. I'll keep you updated.