Here I Am

Here's a story about the airport. The flight from St. Louis to O'Hare is fine. Then, the flight from O'Hare to Kalamazoo gets delayed. And then it gets cancelled. So they say "Your flight has been cancelled, please go to the customer service desk at Gate A4"
So we go there. We're waiting in line for about 15 minutes when the customer service rep behind the counter grabs his coat and says, "Excuse me everyone. As of right now, our shift is over. We don't know if anyone is coming to take our places, so you'll have to go the customer service counter in the C terminal."
Are you kidding me?
It was really kind of unreal.
Long story short, I flew into Detroit instead and my parents came and picked me up and then we went to a restaurant that friends of my parents own and it was really fun.

St. Louis was really fun. We went to the zoo and Dave and Busters, and ate out a lot and watched a lot of TV. Including The Hills, which I have never seen. This show... is barely tolerable. It's all the people from Laguna Beach. I think this little exchange just about sums it up.
Guy: So what did you do all day?
Girl: Oh, just went to work.
Guy: Oh! I'm sorry, I forgot you work.

Like people working is such a foreign concept. Except, it is.
The show is like a freaking car wreck that you just can't look away from.

This is all I have to report for now.

Congratulations, It's a lymphnode!

So I'm having an ultrasound on Friday. No, I'm not pregnant. Good Lord, don't even say that. But I have this bump on my leg. Maybe if you don't know me, you don't know that I'm a crazy psycho hypochodriac.
Once, when my hair was shedding a lot, I became terrified that I had cancer. Then I remembered that it's the chemo that makes your hair fall out, not cancer. I couldn't come up with any horrible hair-shedding diseases so I felt okay.
So anyways, I've got this bump on my leg. Naturally, I decide that it's cancer. Nope, couldn't be anything else, right? I think this facet of my personality is made worse by certain friends of mine, no names mentioned, who have been known to think they have a brain tumor because their eye is fluttering. So I freak out and go to my doctor who is uber-cool.
She's like "Dude. It's an enlarged lymphnode."
She knows I'm insane though, so she says "I'm 99% sure it's a lymphnode. But why don't you get an ultrasound to make sure."
It's really nice to have sweet teacher insurance when you're a psycho hypochondriac.
So I'm having an ultrasound for my baby lymphnode.
I will post the picture ASAP.
Sara's going to be disappointed though. I called her up the other night at 11pm when I found my lymphnode and she says. "That bump is just an alien baby. It's a tap-dancing alien baby, like from Men In Black. Don't worry."

Last night, because it's so nice out, I decided to decorate my porch. I bought a string of globe lights and hung them up and it looked like a cute little outdoor Italian restaurant out there. Then, the sticky things holding them to the ceiling gave out and they all fell to the floor and smashed everywhere.
If you're looking for a good way to waste $10, I highly recommend it.

Rob Says: "Laura, It Must Be Difficult Living in My Shadow."

Probably the best part of today was when I went outside to get a bottle of water from my car at work . I popped the trunk and then locked my keys in the regular part of the car. So. In the parking lot at school, I had to climb into my trunk, through my back seat and into the front seat to get my keys. It was awesome.

I do want a dog, but I'm a little afraid to get one, because having a dog seems to mean that you commune with other dog owners and ask dog questions to one another like, "Oh, what breed is he?" "How much does he weigh?" "How old is he?". You know I just don't care. I would be considered by other dog owners to be an unkind, unfriendly dog owner. And they would be right.

In the past two days I have rented two (2) HBO shows on video. Here is the verdict-
Curb Your Enthusiasm: It's funny, but I couldn't watch it for more than a few episodes. Mom, you wouldn't like it, it's about the guy who wrote Seinfeld, i.e. your arch nemesis.
Big Love: This show is AWESOME. It's about a polygamist and he and all his three wives and seven kids live together in Salt Lake City. I would go so far as to say it's fascinating.

Oh please, people. You know that Locke did not blow up that submarine. That baby is submerged somewhere. Why was John soaking wet when he walked back? You enter a submarine from the top, there's no reason he'd be wet.

I feel as if I've done a better job of being positive, or at least benign on this blog lately. And so I'm allowing myself this one pet peeve report.
You know what my pet peeve is? When people sit there and stare at you when you tell them something.
Instance:
Student: Can I go see Counselor XYZ?
Me: He's not here
Student: (blank stare. Time passes. Babies grow up. Species evolve.) Oh. I need to talk to him.
Me: You should try back tomorrow before school.
Student: Okay. Cause I need to talk to him about changing my classes.
Now, it would be one thing if at this point the student left. But the student stays there and stares at me. It's almost like they think that I'm hiding him and if they have a good enough excuse, I'll let them see him.
What I say: Okay. Come back tomorrow.
What I'm thinking: GET OUT OF HERE!!! I ALREADY TOLD YOU HE'S NOT HERE LEAVE ME ALOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Reasons Why Wednesday Is My Favorite Day of the Week

Most people like to spread their good stuff out over the week so they have something to look forward to every day. I like to put it all on one day so it's like SUPERDAY. I find that sometimes a small good thing cannot, on it's own, withstand the suckiness of a typical workday. However, your workday is no match for all of your fun stuff combined. Much like our friend Captain Planet. Once you combined their powers, Dr. Sludge was SOL.
My day is Wednesday. Here's all the good things about Wednesday Superday:

(1) It's halfway through the week
(2) I wear jeans to work on Wednesdays. No, it's not jeans day. It's just me.
(3) It's my day off from running.
(4) It's the day I get a massage
(5) Lost is on
(6) Lately, I've been getting fruit smoothies on Wednesdays, too.

Wednesday is chock full of happiness. Here is a small tip when making your own superday- Don't make it a weekend day. Weekends are already awesome. The awesomeness of the weekend will diminish the awesomeness of your superday.

Please feel free to comment on your own superday.

Isn't Danny cute, even when he's making stupid faces? Actually, forget I said that. That type of thing is exactly how he got spoiled in the first place.

And by the way, Danny, no, it doesn't count if you turn yourself in. Stop trying to get money out of me.

Did some excellent, excellent writing this evening about this sketchy family that used to live down the road from us. Scratch that. Their grandma used to live down the road. What the hell though, this is fiction, they lived down the road if I say they lived down the road. Everyone knows I'm a liar anyways.

Going to St. Louis in T-2.5 weeks. Going to find Nelly this time for sure. I think Lily knows his exact location. I will get it out of her even if she promised him and the St. Lunatics that she wouldn't tell.

"Laura, what do you think about Heroes being gone until April 23rd?"
Funny you should ask. I think it SUCKS.

Refer Back to This Post When You're Searching for the Root of My Gambling Addiction

I bought into the March Madness bracket pool at work. This is the most fun ever. Also, despite the fact that I have zero interest in and know nothing about basketball, I'm doing really well. Also, checking the scores gives me something to do at work. I've got Kansas beating Georgetown in the final. What's more fun than anything, though, is the one counselor I work with who is ridiculously competitive. I won't tell him who I picked. It's driving him crazy. Seriously though, he's a really nice guy, but his competitive streak is a little bit scary.

Thought while running today: What do you think Zack De La Rocha's mom is like?
I don't think Zack's mom makes cookies. Which is a shame, because cookies are good. Even revolutionaries need cookies.

Last Friday, I get this email from Dragon Lady that she's sent out to the whole school. It says "Paychecks are in! Come by and share a smile!"
First of all, gag.
Second of all, share a smile with who? Are you being facetious? Did you hire someone else to hand out checks?

My sinuses are congested.

Spring! Spring! Spring!

I have the best tree in front of my deck (see left). In a few weeks it's going to be all green and totally awesome, and when it's summer my deck won't be 10,000 degrees.

My Blogs Will Continue to Consist of Numbered Lists Until I Have Something Interesting to Talk About

Don't hold your breath.

(1) Has anyone else noticed that certain types of marinara sauce taste disturbingly similar to vomit? I don't mean that they're gross. I mean they actually taste like vomit. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I invite you to have the Baked Penne at Gallagher's, like I did last night.

(2) I'm obsessed with this song.

(3) Hooray! I ran 10 miles today! This means that I have now run the distance between Lapeer and Davison. Also, I have run the Crim.
I decided around mile 8 today, which is no place to make decisions, that I will never, EVER run a marathon because that is pure insanity. Also, if you run a marathon, I don't think you could get away from eating that Gu stuff. Have you seen this stuff? It's like an instant hit of carbs that you eat while you're running to refuel yourself. It appears to have the texture of rubber cement. No Gu, thank you. If you are immature like me, you will get great joy from saying that sentence quickly.

(4) Hooray for the consignment shop also, where I purchased two shirts, one of which was very expensive the first time it was purchased, for a mere $15.

(5) Hooray for Ryan and Jen who we will be meeting for drinks tonight at Shakespeare's.

(6) Shakespeare's website is lame. It makes it look like a fisherman's bar. No Hooray there.

(7) Rob and I are in a fight for the following reason: He says that if he were a Tyrannosaurus, he would eat me even if he loved me because he couldn't fight his natural instinct. I said if he really loved me, he would fight the natural instinct and not eat me. He refuses to say "Laura, I wouldn't eat you if I were a tyrannosaurus." Until he does, we're not speaking.

(8) Proof that my dad is a sucker (in the good way): You know how we're trying to get rid of those stupid cats? We HATE those cats. They've been around FOREVER. The other day, my mom says to herself "Could I live with myself if I took those cats to the Humane Society?" She couldn't, but at least she tried. Bridget has a growth on her neck. What does my dad do? He pays $600 to have it removed. WHY CAN'T WE LET THEM DIE?? THAT COUNTS AS NATURAL CAUSES!!!! Of course, this aspect of my dad's personality can be used to my advantage as well.

(9) Mostly though, it's used to Danny's advantage. You know the whole Survival of the Fittest thing? I think Danny's one of the fittest. Danny gets away with EVERYTHING. It's like he has a special gene that gets him things. He's clearly more evolved than me. If Danny were a tyrannosaurus, he would eat me, no need to even ask. Don't get cocky about it though, Danny, you would have freaky short arms and I'd get in a couple of jokes about it before you ate me.

(10) It's 50 degrees out. This makes me very happy.

Fergie Ferg, Amongst Other Things

(1) You know how I feel about Fergie Ferg. But all personal feelings aside, she must have the worst lyrics known to man. Also, she is always spelling things out in her songs. Why? Once, okay, but Fergie has turned into a one-trick spelling pony. I only know three Fergie songs and she spells things out in all three of them.
If I were Fergie and I wanted to try and save myself from this embarrassment, I would turn it into a joke. I would name my next album "Spelling Bee", except I would spell it "Spelling B", and the "B" could stand for.. well, "be-ah", if you will.
I'm not saying Fergie is a be-ah, but she could use it in a slangy way.
Just a suggestion.
Here is a lyric from her new song, which I heard on the way to work the other day. It instantly put me in a bad mood.

After the show or after the Grammies
I like to go cool out with the family
Sippin', reminiscing on days when I had a Mustang
And now I'm in...

If you've heard the song though, the way she sings it, it sounds like she says "Sippin', reminiscing on days when I had a mustache".

Whatever, I'm a hater.

(2) Target sells $120 irons. What does a $120 iron do? Don't they all just.. flatten things? I bought the $20 iron, but if I ever won the lottery, I think I would buy a $120 iron.
Just kidding.
If I won the lottery I would never work again, and everyone knows that if I wasn't working, I would be wearing jeans and a tshirt full time and there would be no need for an iron. Probably the same tshirt and jeans all the time. Even to weddings. And I could, because I won the lottery. I would let you, too.

(3) I ran 5 miles today, but it was slightly excruciating. I am, today, exactly halfway through my training camp. I think I am getting over the hump and things will be easier next week.

(4) Here is my Lost prediction: They are going to find Otherville while they're driving around the island in the hippie van.

(5) I'm reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, which is about writing and is quite fantastic.

(6) There's a whole story about the Red Bull truck that hit me the other day, but I am too tired to go into it. I hate it when people do that. Sorry.

Happy Bday Danny!

This weekend we had Danny's bday party. Unfortunately, Danny was in Florida, so he couldn't make it. We had a great time anyways, Danny! Great cake!

Red Bull Does Not Give You Wings

There are a few things I'd like to talk about. First of all, I was assaulted by a Red Bull truck this morning. I'm driving along next to a school bus and when the bus slows down to make a turn, guy in a Red Bull truck that's waiting to turn out from that street decides to gun it in front of the bus. Bad idea, since I am on the other side of the bus. So we hit and all, and now Lola Corolla needs stitches for her front bumper, which I am NONE too happy about, but he got the ticket, so he'll be paying for Lola Corolla's return to greatness.
Dummy.
The wierdest thing ever is when you're skidding and you're thinking to yourself, very calmly, "Hmm. I'm gonna hit that guy."

Second of all, I'd like to talk about this- Exhibit A.
Dear 80's:
Are you being serious? Do you think we don't see you, sneaking your awkwardly large bows back onto the fashion scene? No one is interested in being a child of the 80's again, thank you. Want to know what happened to the people who were popular during your time? Let's see:
Whitney: Drugged out
Paula: Judging on a lame-o show
Pee Wee: Doing time
Screech: Getting kicked out of his house
Debbie Gibson: Living under the assumed named "Debra", trying to escape her Electric Youth past
You were no good for anyone, 80s. So, take your tapered jeans and your bag-like dresses and all your freakiness and take a trip back 20-some years where you belong.

My sister had Electric Youth when we were in middle school. I myself wore "Tribe", which was cool until my school banned it because it made people break out in rashes.

There are no good movies out right now. Maybe they're saving all the good movies for spring and summer. Summer for sure, seeing as Harry Potter comes out on July 13th. It's already on my google calendar.

Catch-up Post

I've been a disgrace of a blog writer and now I have to catch up on everything-

(1) Chicago was super fun. We went to the Museum of Science and Industry, the Chicago Institute of Art, shopping (oh! Hello H&M! Long time no see!), out for Chicago-style deep dish pizza and to Second City for an improv comedy show. Here's a few highlights:

(A) We stayed in the hotel from The Shining, I swear to you. It was a really quiet old hotel (but nice), and there was barely anyone in there. One night, I go looking for a vending machine to get some bottled water (did I tell you I gave up pop and candy for Lent? No, I'm not Catholic. Nonetheless, I have not cheated once). The guy at the front desk is like, "Oh you can get some at the bar on the second floor." Bar? Up in the creaky quiet elevator I go. The door opens to the second floor. There is a freaking party going on in there. I have to walk around for a while to find the entrance, but when I do, the bar is hopping, people. It was EXACTLY like when Jack walks into the fourth of july party or whatever it was. Creepy. More disturbing, however, was the price of bottled water. In the Shining, they tell Jack his money is no good there. They did not tell me that. They told me that flipping bottle of water was $4.50!!! IT'S WATER! IT FALLS FROM THE SKY!! SCREW YOU AND YOUR $4.50!
I drank it.
(B) On the way home, the train was delayed 2.5 hours. Funny considering that the ride is only 2.5 hours long. But Rob and I are like, whatever, lets have a glass of wine from the snack car! So we did. Seriously though, you would have thought that it was the end of the freaking world. The guy in front of me says to his wife, "Go get whatever you want from the snack car. I'll put it on my credit card and then I'll send the bill to Amtrak."
I'm sure you'll be getting reimbursed for that immediately, sir.
(C) Saw American Gothic at the museum. Did you know that the women in the picture isn't the farmer's wife, it's his unmarried daughter?
(D) Rode the busses without getting lost once.
(E) Chicago is not a real city. Their cabs are not yellow.
(F) Second City was hilarious.
(G) I would put up some pictures here, except for the fact that we did not take any pictures. That will be nice when we're old and senile.

Everything non-Chicago:

(2) I'm no longer counting miles because Rob bought me a ticket to NY with all of my mile money. Either that or I completely lost track. Either way, I'm going to NY and you don't have to hear about the money anymore, Sar:)

(3) Finished my book "Grab On To Me Tightly As If I Knew the Way" on the train. The author is coming to Western to read tomorrow, so I thought I'd go. I don't think I will anymore. It was by no means a bad book. It was probably a good book. But I just didn't get into it. EXCEPT that it was set in Kalamazoo so I knew all the places he was talking about, which made me feel cool.

(4) Dear Mom and Dad: I'm coming to visit you this weekend. Please get some water going for Cream of Wheat.

(5) It's bad little Danny's bday. I didn't come up with a way to embarrass him in time, though. Which means I'll just do it on a regular day. Last year, I called a pizza parlor in E. Lansing and tried to get them to send him a pizza with "21" written out in pepperoni, but they wouldn't do it.

(6) I guess that's it for the time being.

I have a coldness disorder. I am always, always, always cold. I hate being cold. Every day I say to Rob, "Rob, is it summer yet?" and everyday Rob says "Yes."
But this is just one more fib in his ocean of lies, in which I am drowning.

Someone write that down. That was brilliant.
Row. Row, row your boat.

Tomorrow we are going to Chicago!
I'm most excited about the train ride, honestly.
Also, about staying in a hotel.
Chicago will probably be cool, too. I guess.
So far we're going to the Museum of Science and Industry and to a show at Second City.

And now I am going to bed.

Etc.

(1) John Mayer has crossed the line from very attractive to bizarre looking. When did this happen? It's a shame. A bloody shame. I blame Jessica.

(2) I like reading the newspaper on Sunday.

(3) The Others have a submarine. Chew on that, my friends.

(4) It's flipping February 18th. How did that happen?

(5) Do you know how many miles I ran yesterday morning? SEVEN. Seven miles. Without stopping.

(6) Saw Breach last night. Good. But not great. Entertaining. But not intriguing.

(7) Sara's bday is Friday, but she's going to NY, so I'm not speaking to her.

(8) My niece thinks she's the queen of slang. Tonight she told Erin that "Dinner was off the hook" Do you believe that my seven year old niece not only knows the phrase "off the hook" but can use it correctly?!?!

(9) Every story I write involves a car in some major way. I begin to wonder about this.

(10) Got in to Tin House Writer's Conference, but I can only go if I get the scholarship. But it's nice to get in, nonetheless.

(11) Bought a vacuum today.

(12) Good night and good luck.

A Story About a Robotlady and $34.25

So. Mardi Gras is... this Tuesday? Last Tuesday? Anyhow, Mardi Gras is upon us. Every week at run camp they have little themes and this week was mardi gras. Don't get me wrong, themes are cool with me and all, they're festive. So as I'm standing listening to the announcements, this lady, who apparently is part of the area running association, comes up and offers me a whole bunch of mardi gras beads.
I'm like "No, that's okay, I don't think I'll like running with those on."
She says "Are you sure?"
I say "Yeah, I'm sure."
So she's like "Well, you should at least take some and put them in your pockets."
Okay, all logic aside, logic like "why would I put mardi gras beads in my pocket?", I just don't want the beads. So I tell her I don't have any pockets. Which was a lie. You could see my pockets. She looked at me. I smiled.

Later on, we're out running. Somewhere around mile 4ish, I feel someone coming up behind me so I move over so they can pass me. But they don't pass. I look over. It's crazy bead woman. For your own personal mental picture, please note the following about this lady:
(1) She is uber-skinny
(2) Her hair is fully done and down on her shoulders
(3) She's wearing full makeup
(4) While the rest of us are bundled up in 8 layers of clothes and hats and gloves because it's 18 Fricking Degrees Outside, Bead lady is wearing running leggings and a long sleeved running shirt. That is all. No hat, no gloves.
(5) If you watch Grey's Anatomy, she looks like a super skinny version of that doctor that everyone hates because she's always hugging everyone and trying to 'heal with compassion'

Anyhow, she's running along and she looks over and says "Hi!"
Her hands are full of beads.
She says to me "You know, these beads don't really even bounce when you run!"
I pause. And then I say "....oh yeah?"
I am thinking the following things:
(1) Is this lady a crazy mutant running robot?
Evidence for: She's running outside in the bitter cold with very few clothes on, handing out beads and smiling. The smiling is what gives it away, really. There is no smiling in running.
Evidence against: none
(2) Why is this lady obsessed with me taking these beads???
My hypothesis: As a robot, she has been given an order to hand out beads and cannot carry out her order until I accept the beads.

What's probably going to happen: Bead lady is waiting for me outside my apartment security door as we speak. She is going to strangle me with mardi gras beads and stuff my face full of paczkis until I suffocate. Because no one says no to Mardi Gras. And no one says no to Robot Running Lady.

It occurs to me that I am really tired, but I'm staying up for the sole purpose of finding out if I won the Mega Millions jackpot. And this makes me sad for myself.

"I'm afraid of bears. I think owls are a waste of time." - Stephen Colbert

Stephen Colbert. Funniest man alive? Yes.
Money now owed to me $22.25
Great game I played on Rob: Changed his ringtone to "Foolish Games" by Jewel.
He's not laughing.
I have absolutely nothing to blog about today.

Money currently owed to me by Rob: $13.25
I am beginning to get very tired of my apartment building reeking of pot. Honestly people, I could care less if you smoke pot, but do you ever do anything else? Open a damn window.
P.S. Those candles you're burning? Not covering it up at all.

Disappointed, Not Disappointed

Disappointed:
At work, I listen to NPR. Do NOT tell my sister. I get sooo sick of hearing the same songs over and over again (103) and most of the stuff on the other station is probably a bit much for a high school guidance office, so I started listening to NPR.
I actually kind of like NPR. EXCEPT Prairie Home Companion, which I hate more than anything. That show is so far from funny. That show is like spending an hour with a really un-funny old relative.
Anyways, they were interviewing Sarah Silverman on NPR the other day because she has a new show on Comedy Central. The clip they played sounded hilariously funny, so I downloaded an episode from ITunes.
Not funny.
I was so disappointed.
This is my number one rule of comedy: Bodily functions are not humorous. Burping, farting, peeing, whatevs. They're not repulsive (most of the time), but they're also not funny.
She's too pretend-cutesy for me.

Speaking of comedians, my boss has decided that I remind her of Kathy Griffin. At first, I was seriously offended, due to the fact that Kathy Griffin looks like a drag queen. I have had some pretty bad haircuts in my life, but I don't feel as if I look like a drag queen. Anyways, she doesn't think I look like her, she thinks we tell stories the same way. I am still undecided about the whole affair.
Moving on.

Not Disappointed:
Oh, Lost. Thank god you're back. Where have you been for all this time? Nevermind, nevermind, it only matters that we're back together.

Re-united and it feeeeels so goooooooood.
Re-united cause it's un-derstoooooooood.

A Thing Or Two To Confess

(1) I do not like Sufjan Stevens. I know that I'm supposed to like him, but I do not. I like his name, does that count? I like that he writes songs about Michigan.

(2) I do, on the other hand, like Hall and Oates. What this says about me, I'm not sure.

(3) I ate the plums from the icebox

(4) Lots of times, I go to bed without washing my face.

(5) Also, from time to time, I don't brush my teeth before bed.

(6) And yet, I never, ever, go to bed without taking out my contacts

Snow, Snow and More Snow

All of you who were so upset about no snow back in December are really getting it now. Thanks a lot for that. I was totally cool with the balmy winter.
There is snow everywhere.
Yesterday there was a blizzard warning and Rob and I actually had to come home from running errands because we couldn't see a foot in front of ourselves.
In addition, the wind chill is supposed to be between -20 and -30 tomorrow.
If I don't get a snow day out of this, I swear to you...

Money currently owed to me by Rob: $10.25
I finally talked him into this arrangement where he gives me $1 for every mile I run up until the race. Also, I decided to give myself a 50 cent bonus for every time I run the entire way without stopping.
He's already trying to scam me though, naturally. Such as:
me: Buy me a hot chocolate
him: Okay. I'll buy you a hot chocolate out of the running money I owe you.

Lame. He's lucky I'm not making it retroactive.

Last night we went to the new comedy club in Kzoo, which I can't link to because it looks like someone pirated the page. Eeeeghhhrrrr!
Anyways, it was a good time.

Don't Let The Door Hit Your A$% On The Way Out

See you, January. But not for another 11 months. And don't try coming back any sooner, because you're not so much welcome here. And you can take March with you (February, not so bad.. so much red and pink!) Why was I born in the most depressing month of the year? I will tell you why. Because I, just like the girl in that great Hallmark movie "The Girl Who Spelled Freedom", fought against great odds. I rose up from the depths of January. I said NO to Seasonal Affective Disorder, I trudged through the snowdrifts to get to school (uphill, both ways) and I MADE something of myself. And let that be a lesson to you.

Anyways, it's almost February, and I get to change my Kzoo Calendar to a new print, which is fun anyhow.

Dear Oakland Drive residents:
Shovel your damn sidewalks. Not only can I not afford a house on your lovely tree-lined streets, now I can't even run on your sidewalks? Unacceptable.

No snow day today. More snow. It's snowing now. But lets not kid ourselves. Someone will bust out their snowmobile and come pick me up before I get the day off of work.

If, for any reason, I became famous and someone decided to excerpt my blog for a book, this entry would appear in Laura: The Bitter Years

And now I sleep.

Actually, I sleep in a second. First, this story. You know how you can go online and get those ecards? You know how most people only use them when they realize at the last second that they've forgotten someone's birthday? Not so much my dad. My dad bought a subscription to an ecard service and I get at least one ecard a day. Some memorable ecard occasions include Thomas Crapper Day (inventor of the toilet), National Beer Can Day and National Hit-Your-Coworker-With-A-Rubberband Day. Today I get one for National Twist Off Bottle Cap Day, and the message says "Your mom and I are celebrating by getting loaded". Does anyone else see the mentally scarring effects of this?

I would just like to mention how completely unfair it is that I can't really write about most of the things that happen at work on here, because the people that come into my office are just begging to be written about on a blog.

Tomorrow could be a snowday.
There is a crapload of snow and supposedly 6-10 in. more tonight and in the wee hours o' the mornin'.

Heroes tonight.
Love the heroes.

This candle completes me. It smells so good that I try not to burn it too much because I'm going to be so sad when it's gone.

My chiropractor kicked my ass today and I'm pretty sure it's going to be some pretty bad pain tomorrow, just in time for my 4 mile run in single-digit temperatures.

I like The Decemberists though I could see how the guy's voice could get old after a while.

I'm applying to go to the Tin House Writer's Seminar in Oregon this summer. Unfortunately, it's the same week as Blissfest, which is depressing but here's the upside to the whole thing: I can only go to Tin House if I get the scholarship I'm applying for, because the whole affair is el expensivo. So. If I get it, I have to miss at least part of Blissfest but, holy crap, I got a full scholarship to Tin House. If I don't get it, depressing, but there's Blissfest instead. Win-win situation. Anyways, for a while I was having a tough time writing a letter that wasn't going to sound like everyone else's letter (Topic: "How will you use the workshop?"), but then I came up with something and I'm really happy with it now. It's fun and self-deprecating.

Just mere days after telling Rob about how Who's Who is a total scam, what do I get in my box at work? A letter from Who's Who.
Dear Laura,
We are thrilled to inform you that you are being considered for inclusion in the 2007-2008 Who's Who in Executive Women, Honors Edition

Clearly some thought is being put in these nominations, because I am nothing if not executive.
I put the letter in a frame and put it up on the corner of my desk for everyone to see, which is an improvement because that frame has been empty with the picture that came in it in there for the past 5 months (It's a lady holding a baby and I tell everyone the baby is mine.)

Speaking of which, the one picture that I do have in a frame on my desk is a picture of my parents and me at my wedding. One of the kids that I really like comes in and says "Woah, Miss W., that picture was taken a long time ago, wasn't it?" I say "Umm.. no. It was taken less than 3 years ago." He says "You look a lot younger in that picture."
Oh, great, so I look haggard now? Thanks for letting me know about that. I'm ancient. I am an ancient guidance office secretary. Life is awesome.

Here it is.

We. love. this. house.
We went to the open house today and it's basically the cutest thing of all time. The red room is my office (plenty of windows), the blue room is the guest room, and Rob and his noise-making is relegated to the basement (his choice).
The master bedroom is awesome.
Now all we need is to seriously talk them down. What's nice for us (and bad for everyone else) is that Kalamazoo's economy is crap-o right now and there are 20,000,000 houses on the market.
We'll see, we'll see.

I will tell you this story once and then we will never speak of it again.

Today my run camp for the 1/2 marathon started. But I didn't get to run. We're standing in the gym stretching and I turn to my group leader and ask where the bathroom is and she tells me and so I go and stand in line at the bathroom.
When I come back, my group is gone.
My running group forgot about me and left while I was in the bathroom.
And you can't just catch up because there are like 300-some people there and they're all in different groups and running different paces and distances.

I'm getting a new running group.
Again, do not bring this up because I am only half laughing about it.

(1) This is the funniest thing of all time.

(2) Got really tired at 7:30 and fell asleep for 2 hours. Now I can't fall back asleep. Crap!

(3) New word today!
Drop (verb):
Doing a urine sample for a drug test.

As in:
"Why are you out in the hall?"
"I gotta drop"
"You gotta drop what?" (They're doing schedule changes right now, so I'm thinking he wants to change classes, right?)
"I gotta drop"
"You gotta drop what?"
"No, Miss W! I'm waiting for my P.O.! I gotta drop! Pee in a cup??"

Good to know, good to know.

Not Enough to Warrant A Blog Alone, But Together... Still Not Enough.


(1) Update: Still no one parking in my carport. Luckily for them.

(2) My boss is having a baby in a month or so. I told her she should name her Champagne Alize. She seemed interested.

(3) What do you guys think about this house? True, it's kind of small. But it's in a super good neighborhood. And most importantly, it's in my price range. Which is to say they're giving it away.

(4) I got a doctor today. She's awesome. She's so hip she doesn't even wear the lab coat.

(5) Ran like Jackie Joyner Kersey (sp?) all week. I have to keep saying this on here to keep myself going. Next week? Upgrading to 3.5 miles.

(6) Seriously need some new workout songs for my runs. Tried ITunes Essentials mixes. They are lame like Michigan is cold.

(7) I will be sad when I get a new job because the people I work with are hilarious and fun. Don't get me wrong, not so sad that I'll stay, but sad nonetheless. The lady down the hall from me sings songs from Little Mermaid in her office. It's like I was born to work here.

(8) Oh, God, what a depressing thought. Revision. It's like I was born to work here for a little while and then find something far, far better.

THIS IS MY 500th Post!!!

I asked Rob if, for my 500th post, he would make it so my blog played music and confetti dropped down the screen. But he didn't. Please insert your own confetti.
Speaking of Rob, I feel it necessary to document our conversations here so that, should I ever go crazy on him, everyone will have seen it coming.
R: I have a stuffed up nose
L: I know
R:What do you mean you know? You're stalking me.
L:... no, Rob. You just sniffled.
R: Whatever. Stop...knowing things about me.

Bad, bad, Leroy Brown
Today we took Rob's car in to get the seat fixed and they called us back a little later and said that the seat was seriously busted and they couldn't fix it. They suggested that we go to an auto salvage place and get a new one, to which I said, where the heck is a junkyard around here. You know junkyards are around, but you never notice them until you need something. I, for one, have never been to a junkyard. Luckily, in this day and age, we have the handy dandy Yellow Pages. I couldn't come up with a better word than 'junkyard', so I typed that in and voila! a bunch of places popped up.
So we go there.
Think a minute about every stereotype you have about junkyards and the people who work there. Okay, that's where we went today. We walk in there's (1) quiet creepy guy who stares at us and says nothing (2) Old renegade guy wearing a motorcycle skull and crossbones shirt, missing a few teeth, smoking like it's his job. There was even a freaking junkyard dog. All over the walls, there are pictures of Harley's with skulls super-imposed over them.
Rob is like "This is your next story. This is a story waiting to happen."
Except that I couldn't write a story about it because everyone would say, that's a really stereotypical description of a junkyard and I would end up being one of those people who says "but it's all true!"
We got the seat ($30!) and then we take it out to my car and I say to Rob
"I don't want your seat in my car"
We put down newspapers.
Rob refuses to sit on it until we buy a seat cover.
Please, though. The damn car only cost $4,000 to begin with, we're not going to spend $500 on parts and labor for a brand new seat.
Probably Rob will get scabies, but that's the price you pay, plus, they're totally treatable and we have insurance to cover the cost of prescriptions, but not so much to cover the cost of new car seats.

Territory

So at the beginning of January I gave up my carport because it was $40/month and there was no snow, hence no need for a carport. Then, of course, it started snowing. But I decided that it wasn't worth $40 and I would just have to get up a few minutes earlier to clear off my car (ha!). But now, I'm like the jealous ex-girlfriend. I think that carport belongs to me. Every time I pull in, I look to see if someone else has rented the carport. Sometimes, I look out my window to see if someone has parked there.
Needless to say, I have problems letting go.
So far, no one has been parked there, but I'm a little worried to see what will happen if someone eventually does.

Something about Friday nights makes me want to sleep, sleep, sleep. But, I made myself get up and go out tonight, mostly because it was Heather's birthday and you don't just cop out on a person's birthday, and I ended up having a really good time. Plus, there was cake.

Currently feeling: exhausted
Currently reading: Empire Falls by Richard Russo (before I see the movie, even!)
Currently looking forward to: sleeping in on Saturday, Sunday and Monday
Netflix movies for the weekend: Quincenera and The Last Kiss
Miles run so far this week: 6
Miles left to run: 3

Shoop Shoop

There's this guy I work with. The word for him would be curmudgeon, which was one of our 9th grade English vocab words. Dude does not like anyone.
But he loves Whitney.
Ohhhhh how he loves Whitney.
If he's playing music in his office, it's Whitney. He owns the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack, The Bodyguard Soundtrack, and whatever album has The Greatest Love of All, and he's got them on rotation.

Do you think he knows about Whitney and the crack? I wonder if he's seen the Whitney/Bobby reality show. Part of me, the mean part, wants to tell him about it when he's being unfriendly, but I don't think he'd take it well.
I can't crumble a life like that.
What it reminds me of is the Lee/Anderson Cooper debacle. Stay strong, Lee, there's no proof.

Tonight I got to play a Wii! It was fun, though I sucked at it. Dr. Mario is my only true video game love.

Dear Ann Patchett:

I do not agree with most of your choices for Best American Short Stories of 2007. But, considering you have published 5 or 6 best selling novels and I have published...
Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it, is what I'm saying anyhow.

Love,
Laura

January is turning out to be almost as long as the light at Westnedge and Milham. You shouldn't wish days away, but really people, I am bored and I am cold and is it too much to ask for a little sun around here?!?!

Postcards from the Edge turned out to be a lame movie.
Children of Men was good, as long as you're into that apocalypse, were-all-gonna-die thing.

Nothing more to report.

P.S. My favorite new musician

Me: Someday do you maybe want to get an exchange student?
Rob: Do we get to keep him?

About Movies

Tomorrow I'm going to go see Children Of Men. Half of me thinks it looks really good. Half of me is really worried. Because what it reminds me of, from the commercials and the futuristic thing, and maybe just because it's set in England, is that move 28 Days Later. I HATED 28 Days Later. Zombies are in no way interesting to me.

Do you believe that the Justin Timberlake movie is getting good ratings? This surprises me, but brings me to another question. Why does everyone like Justin Timberlake? I mean, they don't necessarily think he's the greatest thing ever, but I've never heard anyone say that can't stand him.
"Sexy Back" has even grown on me.
Rob has a man-crush on him. Even Joe was saying the other day that he kind of likes him. What exactly is it about him that makes people like him? I think it's because he seems friendly. I would certainly be friends with good old JT. Also, I read on CNN today that he broke up with Cameron Diaz. Then, I went on Wikipedia (I have a lot of time to kill at work) and found this quote from him:

"I kiss people with my soul. I don't kiss them with my mouth."

It made me puke in my mouth a little, so I pretended like I never read it.


Work was insane this week.
Didn't get my KCollege job I really wanted, so I bought myself a plane ticket to St. Louis to see Lily over spring break. Also, I get to fly right out of Kalamazoo.

I kicked ass running this week. Yes, that's right, I ran outside in sub-30 degree weather.
I am going to be a 1/2 marathon badass.

This is all.
Tonight, I have Postcards from the Edge to watch. I heart Netflix.

2 Great Calls I Got Today.

Call #1:
"Hi. My son used to go to your school, but then he had to go to alternative school instead because he was messing up in regular school. But, a couple weeks ago, he got hit by a police car. Do you think, since he got hit by a police car, that he could come back to your school? His doctor said he would write a note about what happened."

Okay... I'll admit that I was never good in the logic classes, but I'm relatively certain that one thing does not follow another in that reasoning. How does getting hit by a police car get you back into regular schools? What does getting hit by a police car have to do with school?
These are the calls I forward to someone else, basically to whoever's line isn't busy.

Call #2:
Call 2 lady, we'll call her "Luann", called me and left a message so I called her back. No one answers and her voice mail picks up. It's dead for a second and then.. music cues up. Soft core porn music, like the 800 # commercials you see when you're watching TV too late at night.
Voice Mail Message (please supply your own sultry voice):
"Hi. This is Luann. I guess I'm not here right now. But if you leave a message, I'll get right back to you. Leave your name. Holla."
Rob does not believe me that she said holla, but I swear to you, she said holla.
Probably what's going to happen is I'm going to get charged $2.99/minute for calling that lady back and I'm going to lose my job.

Blah, January.

Tomorrow is the most dreaded of all days, the day I have to go back to work after a 16 day vacation. It's like you actually forget you ever worked when you have time off. There will, however, probably be some good stories.

January.
January is lame.
Here are some things I'm looking forward to, beyond January:

(1) Rob and I planned a trip to Chicago over Presidents Day weekend. More exciting than the trip, however, is the fact that we're taking the train there. I really love the train. Also going to see a show at Second City, possibly the Art Institute, and some other cool stuff I haven't come up with yet. Also planning on running into my pal Oprah.

(2) ALSO planned a mini-trip for Memorial Day Weekend. I'm running the Bayshore Half Marathon in Traverse City and then Rob is going to come up and meet me and we're going to spend the rest of the weekend camping at Traverse City State Park. You should try reserving a campsite online now, it's sweet- they show you a map of all the sites and how close they are to the beach and even if it's a sunny or shady site, and then you get to pick which one you want.

(3) My freaking story is finally finished. A few months ago, a guy called me from a literary magazine that I had sent my story to. He said he really liked it, but he thought it needed another draft. So I've been (slowly) working on a draft and I promised myself I'd finish it before Christmas break was over. Suprisingly, I did. But... when I sent it to him, I got an email back saying he was no longer with that magazine.
It's actually kind of funny.
I'm not really upset about it, because I'm so glad to feel like the story is actually done. He said to submit it to the new fiction editor and explain the situation, anyways. We'll see how it goes...

(4) Rob bought me a lottery ticket and I think it's the jackpot winner.


Also, while I was in the bathtub tonight, I came up with two new inventions, just in case the lottery thing doesn't work out.

(1) Your cellphone should have an adapter that lets it charge through your computer, just like your Ipod does. Rob says to me "I'm sure someone else has already thought of that." Rob likes to stomp on my genius on a regular basis.

(2) I'm going to invent the most comfortable and book-friendly bathtub known to man. The problem is, I want to read in the bathtub. This never works. My book alwaysalwaysALWAYS gets wet. Then the pages crinkle up and I don't want to read it anymore. Yes, I'm that finnicky. This bathtub is going to make it possible to lay back comfortably, without getting your hair wet and without getting your book wet. I'm not sure how that's going to happen quite yet, which makes it less of an invention and more of an idea, but ideas, like knowing, are half the battle.

Aaaannnnddd lastly...
We're now addicted to The Office, which brings our number of shows watched up to 3. Getting the old seasons of television shows from Netflix will somehow be my downfall in the end. It's probably the funniest thing I've ever seen, though.

So I did the sweetest thing ever this week, I set up a vacation fund- Every week, a small sum of money is taken directly out of our paychecks and put into a special savings account. This is the coolest thing of my life.
This should not be so cool for the following reasons-
(1) About everyone on earth does the same thing, I think
(2) It's my own money. It's not like I'm getting extra money in any way.

But it IS the coolest thing because I don't even see the money, so I never have to have any type of willpower and put it aside myself. And at the end of the year... FREE VACATION!!!
Actually, by the end of the year, there will be enough in there that we can either take one gigantic vacation or two decent-sized vacations.
So I spent all afternoon looking up possible destinations. So far in the running...
Hawaii
Somewhere in California
Toronto
Maine
Martha's Vineyard

I don't even have to decide yet, but when I do, BAM! the money's there.
Savings Account.. great invention, or greatest invention?

Rob and I are adopting a new show. Apparently, Heroes is really good. Usually this wouldn't be enough to make me watch it, except that Joe said the magic words. He said it's "Lost-ish". ohhhhhhowilovelost. All the Heroes episodes are online for free. We're starting a Hero marathon tonight. Be there.

Names I Am Happy I Was Not Named:

Daisy
Tasha
Tina
Trisha
Estelle
Betty
Moonunit
Dweezil
Delilah
Daisy. I am uncertain if I could take myself seriously if I was named Daisy. Sorry if I've offended any Daisys out there.

New Years. Lame.

Here comes New Years again. Here is my take on New Years. New Years is and forever will be completely and totally disappointing. It does not matter what you're doing or where you are. You could be with the funnest (yeah, funnest, okay?) people in the world in the coolest place in the world and it's absolutely no different than if you were sitting at home playing Oregon Trail with a bottle of carbonated fruit juice (which I recall as being some of the best New Years ever, actually), because New Years could never ever live up to the excitement.
I can tell you where the worst place in the world to be on New Years is, though. Times Square. Times Square is obnoxious enough on a normal day, do you really want to crowd in there with thousands of people and watch a gigantic glass ball slowly creep toward the ground?
Maybe you do.
I would rather play Oregon Trail and die of dysentary.
The problem is, it's a countdown and so you feel like "ooohhh.. somethings going to happen at twelve! What's it going to be? It's going to be so sweet!"
Even though you know nothing's going to happen, subconciously you still feel like it is.
So, this is my proposal, tenatively called Laura's New Year Plan. What happens is, the government puts aside a budget and we use the money to make something cool happen every year so no one feels let down on New Years. I feel as though this would be the best possible use of my tax dollars.
For instance,
2007- As the ball gets to five, the front swings open (hinges have been masterfully hidden), revealing Tupac, who sings "Dear Mama" and then tells us all where he's been hiding since he faked his death.

I would feel immensely satisfied by this surprise, because I've been telling Erin forever that Tupac is still alive.

2008- Instead of the Waterford crystal ball, a gigantic pinata is lowered over Times Square. People begin hitting it and candy and metro cards and jewerly and Broadway tickets and dolla dolla bills fall out, blanketing Times Square in coolness.

I'm taking suggestions, so please feel free to contribute.
Until all of this goes in effect though, probably the only thing that could make New Year's worthwhile is if Erin called up and told me she was having a baby, like I've been asking for forever.
Take one for the team, Erin. Don't ruin my New Years.

The Pain and Suffering of Others Is Never Funny.
Never, ever, ever.

Who's the Weird One, Me or Estelle?

Just before we left for Christmas, Rob and I looked around our apartment and said to ourselves, "Why is there almost nothing on the walls?", followed by, "Why is this place the biggest disaster on Earth, all the time?"
So, we decided to get decorating and organizing.
First, we went to Ikea yesterday, where we purchased a filing cabinet thing for under our desk so all our crap will now be off the floor, a small chest to hide all of Rob's music crap in, as well as a few small knick knacky things.
Then today I went out and bought stuff to put on the walls. I happen to think it's the coolest stuff ever. I bought a photo mobile, magnetic photo strings, some small stuff to frame and the 2007 Kalamazoo Calendar, and I'm going to frame all of the pictures from it because they are awesome.
I'm a little afraid for when Rob comes home and sees what I bought, though.
Rob and I have very different decorating styles (Perhaps you remember The Birds)
The specific difference is, mine is cool, his is not.
Yesterday at Ikea, Rob comes up to me with a bag of potpourri and small blue woven basket and says "What do you think about this for the bathroom?"
I say to Rob, "Rob. Is there an old lady named Estelle hiding inside of you?"
Rob nods.
I am not a potpourri type of girl.
He also tried to pick out an old man painting for our wall.
We are at an impass. No birds for me, no old men and potpourri for him.
I tend to think I'm the one with the good sense, but then I think about something Erin said to me once, specifically, "Laura. Are you ever going to stop decorating like you're living in a dorm room?"
Got to love my family! So honest!
We will see what happens when Estelle gets home.

So much to say, so much to say, so much to say, so much to say-ay (like the Dave Matthews song)

First, I heard this song coming home tonight. This must be the most unfathomably melodramatic wussy song I've ever heard. "You don't need to bother/ I don't need to be"? I think someone in my high school poetry class wrote this. Also, it was followed by The Freshman, which is BAD BAD KARMA.

Lets talk about good music, such as the video music diary I received as a present on Friday night. Joey Joe and the boys knew what real music was. As a matter of fact, I believe it was this little stanza of pure genius that got me interested in writing to begin with:

Listen up everybody if you wanna take a chance.
just get on the floor and do the new kids dance.
Dont worry bout nothing cause it wont take long.
were gonna put you in a trance with a funky song

However, I do have a little advice for you for the next video, guys. On the 'Hangin Tough' track- if you have to have "We're Rough" scroll across the screen in neon pink letters.. you're probably not that rough. Rough is just one of those things that speaks for itself. Awesome hair-dos though, no worries..

Something questionable I did this week...
The thing about being bored at work is that it's not like when we were growing up. The internet.. so accessible! You end up doing stupid things. For instance, last year, while bored at work, I decided to become an aerobics instructor. Not sure why.
This time, even stupider. I signed up to run a half marathon. On one hand, it's really good. There's a 13 week training camp before hand where they put you in a running group and you work up to the 13 miles. On the bad side, I'll be running outside in the frigidy Michigan winter. What this all points to is the fact that I need a job that keeps me busy.
This is me pledging, however, that I will never sign up to run anything longer than 13 miles.

Rob: Most Embarrassing Person Ever? You Decide.


So. We're in the coffee shop right now. Rob's grading papers and, because he hates grading papers, every time he finishes one, he makes me give him a high five, apparently to keep morale up or something. Not a little low-key five. We're talking hand straight up in the air, makes your palms sting high five. You're thinking to yourself "So just don't do it." Except that, he holds his hand up in the air and stares at you with this freaky frozen smile face until you give him the high five. I feel like I'm in Punky Brewster or a college orientation skit. People are staring. And I ask you, what did I do to deserve this?

Boy, 11, Kicks Hawk In Face To Save Puppy

I swear to you, this is an actual headline on CNN today and not a subplot in an Adam Sandler movie.

Resolution

I wear this shirt in honor of Sierra who never gets to explore her Jewish roots. Seriously though, Sierra gets mad at Erin every year because her friends get to celebrate Hannukah and she doesn't.
"Well, why can't we just be Jewish?"
A fair question, Sierra, a fair question.
Where's your answer to THAT, Erin?

I just came up with a New Year's Resolution. I'm going to travel more this year. Here is my list of places I would like to go (half of which will never happen, seeing as I am poor and penniless. But that's what resolutions are for...)

Laura's Travel Plans 2007

February- New York for a weekend
April- St. Louis to see Lily for a few days over spring break. If she can't get time off, I'll just work with her at the zoo, herding llamas or something. Last time I visited Lily I got to touch a rhino's tongue. Top that.
July- Up to Blissfest, but I was thinking of maybe applying to go to the Tin House Seminar in Oregon. This will interfere with Blissfest though. Boo for that. Change your dates, Tin House.
Some other month during the year- Rob has promised to take me to Napa Valley even though he thinks it will be boring.
Another, nother month- Erin and I are taking a trip somewhere. I haven't told her yet. Hey, Erin. We're taking a trip somewhere together next year. Be there.

Charmer

You know, with the nothing books and all, I saved pretty much everything from high school. One thing that I'm really sad that I somehow did not save was a note that I got from a guy friend my freshman year asking me out.
This was the greatest note of all time.
Apparently, at the young age of 15, this guy had somehow come to the conclusion that his options were sparse and he had better go ahead and settle down before every last female on earth was taken. I say this because he sent me this note:

Dear Laura:
blahblahblahblahblah
I wanted to know if you would go out with me. I know you're not the prettiest girl in school, but you're true blue.

I laugh every time I think about this note
Good old Jim, taking one for the team and asking the ugly girl out.
I will bear him many sons and do what needs to be done for the children. Plus, my dowry is two goats and a cow (lots, because I am so ugly)
I would pay actual money to still possess that note.

Seriously, Laura? Seriously?


The portfolio for my class is due Thursday. I have much, much more to do. I was going to do it today, but then I got side-tracked by Christmas shopping, decorating the tree and getting online, and now I have to clean the house because we have people coming over for game night tonight.
Procrastination is the bane of my existence.
I think I'm taking a personal day on Tuesday. Which would actually work out well because Erni is coming on Tuesday and then I could just go out for lunch whenever.
No classes next semester. I am fresh out of willpower.

Super Secret Hush-Hush



This is my super-secret weapon. I like to call it 'icicle'. I've been building it inch by icy, pointy, death-filled inch. I am smart and crazy like a ninja. If I see someone trying to break into my house, I will smack a broom handle against the top of it and unleash icy fury!
IT'S BRILLIANT, BRILLIANT, BRILLIANT!!

Do not mess with ninja masterminds.

Stupid Things I Do and I Am A Badass Lumberjack

As we've discussed in the past, I am not a social guru. Actually, I make an ass of myself on a daily basis. Something I like to do a lot is start to say a word and then change my mind about what word I'm saying halfway through, so that a lot of nonsense blubbering ends up coming out of my mouth.
For example, I'm leaving the chiropractor today.
At first, I decide to say "Bye"
Then, halfway through, my brain tells my mouth, "No, say 'Night' instead"
So, I end up yelling out, on my way out of the chiropractor's office,
"Bite!"
Then I tell myself that no one heard me, but really everyone did and they're wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
Seriously, people think I have a very polite form of Tourettes.

Speaking of the chiropractor, I think he's trying to brainwash me. They have this little TV in the room while you're waiting and it's all of these informational things and lame quizzes.
First of all, I hate those quizzes because they're like
True or False:
In 500 B.C. Archimedes discovered that music has healing properties.

Come on, guys. What is the point of making that a true or false question? It's obviously true if you put all that detail in there. Why don't you just say "Did you know.."
If it were my office, though, I would make it a true and false quiz and then the answer would be false. No explanation, nothing, just 'false'

True or False?
In Egyptian folklore the three eyed cat represents the trifecta of healing properties, one of which is chiropractic medicine
False.

But anyhow, the point is, I think he's trying to turn me against traditional medicine. All the info today was like "Antibiotics cover up the root of the problem. Chiropractors advocate natural healing" and "Did you know, Antibiotics are associated with cancer?"
A few more visits and I won't let my kids go to the doctor anymore, and they'll have to sit in the hall during birthday parties at school.
It'll be like:
"Mom! I've got a goiter the size of a basketball!"
"Oh, don't worry honey, it's just your spine. You just need an adjustment!"

Moving on...


























This is the tree that I cut down.
SINGLEHANDEDLY.
I AM A BADASS LUMBERJACK.
That tree never saw me coming, I started sawing away and it fell over.
Then I put it on my blue ox and we all went out for pancakes.

Blasphemy

I am making myself the ultimate Christmas mix album CD. I am doing this because it will bring a little joy to my work life. I am also decorating the plastic tree in our office with lights and ornaments. You do what you have to.
Upon searching for songs for my superfabchristmasmix, I ask you, who re-does ('covers', whatever) the John Lennon "Happy Christmas/War Is Over" song?
The answer: Lots of people.
To you people, I say. Just Say No.
Don't do it.
Seriously.
I like analogies.
Do architects ever say "That Eiffle Tower is so cool. I think I'll build another one just like it.
No. Or if they do, they're retarded.
If you have counter-arguments about this, I'm not interested.
Let it be people, it was about as good as it gets the first time around.

Also, do you know what classic Christmas song ITunes does not have?
A little ditty I like to call "Funky, Funky Christmas" by NKOTB.
I think, though, that if I searched long and hard in my basement, I could find my old tape of it. I imagine it's in with my NKOTB pajamas and posters and giant pins and VHS tapes and key chains.
Or it's in my closet as we speak.
Whatever.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It's.
Flipping.
Cold.
And slippery. Very slippery. I fell coming out of Saladays tonight. Rob, gentleman that he is, even felt so bad for me that he helped me up and let me dust off my jeans before he started laughing and yelling "you fell!". Charming, that Rob.
What combats all of the coldness and slipperyness?
Breathe Right Strips.
You heard me. Breathe Right Strips. They're freeing. Say what you will about them, but Rob went and got me some last night when my sinuses were all clogged up.
The difference is night and day.
So I say, why save it for when you're sleeping?
Which is why I am wearing one this very second, as I drink a glass of wine and type on my blog.
Try it, you'll thank me.

Please Burn My Eyes Out With A Hot Poker

They switched the Men's and Women's locker rooms at my gym and I forgot all about it. I definitely walked in to the wrong one and saw an old man completely naked and I'm not quite sure how I'll ever be able to scrape the image off of my retinas.

Dear famiglia,
You might as well stop looking for your ugly ornament because I have already found the ugliest ornament ever created.
Sorry for the bad news,
Me

Damn you, Duck

Today. Today, I'm on my way to class. I am late because SOMEONE was supposed to drop me off at class but forgot about me, forcing me to drive myself to class with a pocket full of parking meter quarters, stolen out of my piggy bank, at the last possible second. So I'm zooming along (and by 'zoom' I mean observing all speed limits and driving regulations), I'm almost there, I'm by the Goldsworth Valleys..... you're on the edge of your seat, I can tell... when an entire gaggle of ducks decides to cross the street. So they cross. Waddle, waddle, I'm waiting, I'm watching the clock, they're almost across.. except for one duck. There is a hesitant duck. Damn duck is standing on the very edge of the curb, leaning forward even, I swear. But he just won't cross. I am in my car yelling "GOOO DUCK!! GOOO! I'M GOING TO RUN YOU OVER, DUCK!!"
The duck will not be swayed.
I think he's about to cross and... then the duck cranes his little ducky neck toward me and laughs. And then he looks me straight in the eye and he mouths "sucker".
I hit the gas but he flew away before I could get him.
From now on, I'm throwing all my plastic six-pack holders away without cutting them apart.
Bastard.

Today: Sweet? I Think So.

1. Conversation I just had with my dad:
My dad (picking up the phone): "JAMBO!!"
Me: "What?"
Dad: "Jambo!"
Me: "What is Jambo?"
Dad: "It's Swahili for hello!"
Me: "Why are you speaking Swahili?"
Dad: "Because it's KWANZAA!"

Lately, my dad seems to think he's the Grand Master of Holidays. Today I got a "National Tell People at Work to go to Hell Day" e-card. I've been informed that tomorrow is National Electric Guitar Day, so please plan accordingly.

2. I had the BEST massage today. Because I'm going to the chiropractor and he prescribed massages, my insurance covers them. I get hour-long massages once a week for $6, and all I have to do is let the chiropractor crack my neck and possibly cause my entire spinal column to crumble.
And no, these are not Open Till 2 AM along the Interstate massages.
You would do it, too.
The massuse (masuse? Ma-Suess?) came out to get me and she was the smallest person I've ever seen. This was deceiving, because she was an uber-tough massager.

3. I have two funny stories from work, but I'm kind of concerned about writing about work, due to the fact that you can find my blog if you google my name.

3a. Not that I think people spend their free time googling my name, but you can never be too careful.

4. I went to the gym today. This is two days in a row. I never go two days in a row. Yay for me.

5. I had some KILLER soup today at Panera. Butternut Squash. So good that I actually got some to go after I was done so I can take it in my lunch tomorrow.

6. I was under the impression that there were five more weeks of school (work) until Christmas break, come to find out that there are actually only FOUR.

7. The key to being happy at work is to get a super-caffinated beverage in the morning. Then you feel kind of laughy and stupid all day. Yes, I'm drugging myself. Different strokes for different folks, people.

8. 'Strokes' is a word with weird connotations and I promise not to use it again unless there is no other option.

9. It is 9:30pm and I literally just walked in the door for the first time since I left at 6:30am this morning.

10. I have a small heater fan underneath my desk at work, and I accidentally left it on. The OCD portion of my brain, inherited from Erin, is currently insisting that it's going to inadvertently burn the entire building down.

More On Music
First of all, I'd like to give a shout out to my Aunt Dawn, who I promised to say hi to two years ago and have yet to deliver.
That was bad grammar, but I'm too tired to fix it.
Let's talk about music again. Because I am the master of procrastination, I spent a good hour last night going through the ITunes Essentials mix albums listening to all the songs that were popular when I was in high school.
Remember that song "I Wanna Sex You Up"?
Of course you do. It's a contemporary classic. Our grandchildren will be singing it.
Were you aware that one of the lines in that song is:
"Girl you make me feel real good
We can do it 'til we both wake up"

Can we talk about the all the problems with that lyric?
You fell asleep?

I'm not even touching that one.

Tonight, Rob and I got new ringtones for our phones.
Rob got "Ignition Remix" by R. Kelly and is hoping it goes off in class.
I'm hoping it doesn't go off in a store when I'm standing anywhere near him.
He claims it's his (and I quote) "Anthem".

Christmas presents purchased today: 2

If I Could Change The World

Most people, if they had access to a time machine, would go back in time and change some massive event. This is the case for me as well. If I had the chance, I would go back to the year 1991, I would walk into the room where What's His Name was composing the monumental hit "The Freshman", and I would break his pencil in half. And then, if necessary, I would eat the pencil.
That song, so very deep when you're in high school, is like freaking NAILS ON A CHALKBOARD to me now. And it's stalking me. You know "I've Got You Babe" from Groundhog's Day? That's me and The Freshmen. Leave me in peace! No more shoes full of rice!

FYI: The Fish Dies On Pg. 95

I just finished The Old Man And The Sea.
You should have stuck it out, even though it seemed pretty lame for about the first 25 pages. The fish finally dies on pg. 95. If you want to skip to that part, I will understand.
I'll get you caught up to there with a quick sum up:
Fish.
Boy.
Fish.
Sure would like that fish.
That fish is huge.
Come on Fish.
I'm gonna kill you fish.
Bloody hands.
Fish.
How'd you like a harpoon to the head?
Got you, sucka.

Pick it up from there.
I'm just kidding, I actually really liked it. On Ernest's behalf, you have to be pretty sweet to pull off 95 pages of fish-suspense ("Fishspense", if you will) in a 125 page book.
Excellent job, Ernest. Though I still think the mojito was your most awesome accomplishment.

Oh yeah, Ohio State? OH YEAH???
Hmm.. that was fun. For a minute there it wasn't almost like I cared about football.
We're going to the new downtown theater tonight! Yay for new theaters! Yay for Kalamazoo! Yay for downtown not being depressing and rundown anymore!
Hey, it appears as if blogger now has spell check. I guess you all won't have to suffer through 'wierd' vs. 'weird' anymore. (And it's only because of spell check that I know that the first one is incorrect. Also, 'yay' is apparently not a word or not spelled that way. Moving on..)
I went for a massage today. It was all fine and good until the end when she made me feel stupid by saying "How was everything? I didn't get much talking from you so I didn't know how it was going.", to which I say, who talks during a massage? That's the whole point!
Friday at work was great, no one was there bothering me and the day flew by. Partially because I spent a good deal of it screwing around, but not the point.
I also looked up a bunch of stuff on Wikipedia. Did you know...
Former famous resident of Bronxville:
J.F. freaking K. I LOVE J.F.K.! I have a favorite everything. Here are just a few (of my fay!-vorite things!):
Favorite Presidents: JFK and Abraham Lincoln, as well as James Monroe, our illustrious fifth president, only because I did a report on him in 3rd grade.
Favorite color: Green. No contest.
Favorite numbers: 3 and 7
Favorite volcano: Mt. Vesuvius. Naysayer Sara says "That's only because you don't know any other volcanoes", but I beg to differ because I know Mt. St. Helen and don't think nearly as highly of it.
Favorite Movies: Good Will Hunting and Garden State
Favorite Car: Though Lola Corolla is fantastic, my heart stays true to Onda-Onda the Silver Honda, which Gordita and Mini sold off without a second thought, almost as if she wasn't a member of the family.
Favorite Thanksgiving Dish: Stuffing.
Favorite Show: Lost. Want to say something bad about it? Want to fight me?
Favorite Restaurant: Used to be Lodo's. Then they got rid of the fajitas. To which I say, screw you.
Favorite Bar: The Wheel. Once, I did a cartwheel outside of the wheel and messed up my wrist.
Favorite Mode of Transportation: Train. traintraintraintraintraintraintrain.
Enough is enough.

On Suckiness

There are approx. 250 staff members in my building.
Me and one other person have to work on Friday. That's it. Why? Because it's a conference comp. day and secretaries don't work conferences.
The nonsensicalness of this boggles the mind.
Here will be my day on Friday:

*phone rings*
"Hello? (pause) No, they're not in today."

Rinse and repeat. All. Day. Long.
ACTUALLY, no. That won't even be my day. Because the school is CLOSED, and no one will try to call because they will think to themselves, THE SCHOOL IS CLOSED.
This is what is even more mind-boggling to me, though.
Three, count them, three people, none of whom are my boss or higher up than me, upon finding out that I have to work, have said to me "Well, that's too bad. But, you know, if you have to be here, I can find something for you to do."
What possesses a person to say such a thing?
Yes, people. It's not enough that I have to work while you have the day off, please, PLEASE!, LET ME DO YOUR FREAKING WORK FOR YOU WHILE I'M HERE.
Moving along..

Favorite work story of the week: This girl comes into my office and says "The security guards took something away from me, where do I go to get it back?"
Me: "Depends, what was it?"
What do you think it was?
Dice.
The girl was playing dice in the hallway and betting and got it taken away.

You know what's funny? Saying "whatevs" instead of "whatever". What's not funny is when you say it so much that it actually becomes part of your vocabulary and slips out of your mouth in regular conversation and you hear yourself saying it and think "Wow. I sound retarded. I hope they don't think I seriously use that word."
Except I do use that word.
Whatevs. It's nobody's business anyways.

Have you forgotten what we were like then
when we were still first rate
and the day came fat with an apple in it's mouth

It's no use worrying about time
but we did have a few tricks up our sleeves
and turned some sharp corners

The whole pasture looked like our meal
we didn't need speedometers
we could manage cocktails out of ice and water

I wouldn't want to be faster
or greener than now if you were with me, O
you were the best of all my days.

Frank O'Hara.

My Dream Job and Voting=cookies

If I could do annnnnything in the whole wide world? I would write descriptive lines for talk shows and news programs, as well as headlines for newspapers. For instance, when Oprah has a guest and the little thing pops up and says

Candy Smith
Angry Housewife

Those things come out so freaking stupid, no matter what.
I would make them stupider.
I would make them COMPLETELY irrelevant. Mine would be like

Candy Smith
Wears too much eyeliner

Candy Smith
Has a lisp

Except, the show would be about world hunger or something.

I'm a heartless bitch.

I just saw this news headline on mlive.com-
The big story?
"Some voters don't care"
Wow. Earth-shattering news. Way to get to the big story.

Which brings me to my next topic, which is that I voted non-absentee for the first time ever. Voting is fun. There were cookies there.
I wasn't going to vote, but then I remembered "Vote or Die", and I didn't want to die, so..
Just kidding, I was always going to vote. But it was kind of cool. My polling location was a retirement home and all the the workers were volunteers from the home. Me and one of the workers discussed the vote-counting machine for a while. An all-around pleasant experience.
Remember, people. Voting=cookies.
Seriously, the sad state of affairs is that if that were the slogan, voting numbers would be up. Had I know ahead of time, I would have voted twice.

"I Wish You Could Put Popcorn On A Sandwich", And Other Deep Thoughts By Rob MacInnis

Saturday, we're in the park because I'm taking the engagement announcement photo for Ryan and Jen. We're snapping lovely pictures beside rocks and bridges.
And Rob is behind me.
Rob is behind me, chasing the geese, yelling, "Come back here, Goose! I've got a bone to pick with you!"

Yes, I'm Aware, But Nonetheless...

So, I go to Beaner's today cause I had a CRAPPY day and all I want is one of those Mega-Caffeine Espresso Drinks.
I'd like to start off this story by saying that I know it's rude to talk on your phone in the drive-thru, but this was special circumstances. I didn't recognize the phone number of the person calling me, and when I picked up it was the guy from Human Resources of this job I really want, so what am I going to do at that point, hang up?
So I'm in line and I answer and I'm talking to him and then the girl comes up to the window and I hand her the money. This girl starts talking to me at MEGAPHONE VOLUME as I'm trying to talk to HR guy.
Me: Oh, great, blah blah blah
Coffee Girl: OH MY GOD THAT IS SOOOOOOOOO CUTE!!! (about my phone? I don't know.)
I keep trying to mime to her, but she keeps talking at Super-human volumes, so loudly that the guy I'm talking to stops talking because he thinks it's me talking.
Uhh!
In other news, someone save me from my job.
Next weekend is Friend Thanksgiving and I just called Jen and we're going to make Pilgrim Hats.
It's nice that someone else I know is as ridiculous as me.