Part of the definition of addict, I think, is that you need it so bad that you come up with tons of crazy ways to get it. I've started feeling guilty about buying so many lattes, so here is how I've paid for my lattes this week, without actually using my bank account.

Sunday- Used a frequent buyer punch card.
Monday- Asked the girl at another place if they had a frequent buyer punch card. She said "No, but we give out these from time to time instead" and gave me a card for a Free Large Drink. Remembered her face so I could ask the same question to someone else and get another free card
Tuesday- Took back the bottles
Wednesday- Stole $5 from Rob.
I'm eyeing my piggy bank for the rest of the week, but I can't find a grocery store with one of those Coinstar machines and I'm not desperate enough to roll it myself yet.

Rob said no to an espresso machine. He's only hurting himself.

Penny had her first day of Obedience School today. We're going to need a 504 plan.

Aw, look at my avatar, she's going to Prom! You look so beautiful, avatar, you're going to have the time of your life! Ha. Just kidding. You're going to drink bad punch and dance to "Here and Now". You do look nice, though.

Sara and I went and saw Knocked Up the other night. I thought it was going to be cute but pretty predictable, but it was actually really REALLY good. I highly recommend it.

I Wish Writing These Was My Job

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/25B.DavinStengel.html
But it's not.
I particularly like "I Wanna Name A Park After U"

T.M.I.

More about the half-marathon (my best run EVER) and Memorial Day Camping later. First, this.
Here's a website where you can find out the #1 Billboard song on the day you were born. Or.. on the approximate date of your conception.
Right now Erin's throwing up on herself. Everyone else proceed.
So it turns out that on my approximate conception date Another Brick in the Wall was the #1 song.
The truth comes out.
From this information, I can only conclude that I'm a 60's kickback lovechild, conceived under the influence on an orange velvet couch.
Erin, I looked up your conception song for you, since I know you wont. It's "Boogie Oogie Oogie". I don't think my comments on that are really even necessary.

Save the Cheerleader, Save the World!!!

Awesome!! It's the first real Hero!!

If You Don't Know, Now You Know.

A comma splice occurs when two independent clauses are joined by a comma with no conjunction. For example:

It is nearly half past five, we cannot reach town before dark.

It is usually considered an error, especially in American English, where it is condemned in The Elements of Style.

Simply removing the comma does not correct the error, but results in a run-on sentence. There are several acceptable ways to correct this:

* Change the comma to a semicolon:

It is nearly half past five; we cannot reach town before dark.

* Write the two clauses as two separate sentences:

It is nearly half past five. We cannot reach town before dark.

* Insert a coordinating conjunction following the comma:

It is nearly half past five, and we cannot reach town before dark.
It is nearly half past five, so we cannot reach town before dark.

* Make one clause dependent on the other:

As it is nearly half past five, we cannot reach town before dark.

Comma splices are sometimes acceptable when the clauses are short and alike in form, such as:

The gate swung apart, the bridge fell, the portcullis was drawn up.

(Examples adapted from the online 1918 edition of The Elements of Style.)

I'm just letting you know this so you won't be embarrassed, should someone ever ask you. Or, if, say, you apply to teach composition at a college and you get an email back that says "I have to tell you, I really loved your essay, despite the comma splices."
And, say, if you not only have comma splices, but you don't really even know what a comma splice is.
God help me.
I'm supposed to be in English.
The thing is, I don't have time for all the rules, people. Blah, blah, blah, add a conjuction, add a semi-colon. I've got stories to write!! I've got to write a story about a guy who has to burn a tick out of his son's skin! We're lighting matches and describing campsites and imagining tense relationships, and we sure as hell are not ruining our sentences with too many ands!!

Honestly, though, he was really nice and he said he'd forward my application to anyone he could think of that might be able to use me.
Splice that!

Once Again, We Here At Lolalou.com Ask, "What Is the World Coming To?"

This is what's keeping me up at night lately:
"Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne.
Okay, so it's catchy.
I cannot reconcile the fact that someone wrote a lyric like "She's like so whatever" and is making millions of dollars off of it. MILLIONS OF DOLLARS.
And it's not just a lyric, it's the freaking reprise.
I don't even get that lyric. Where do the commas go?
Is it, "She's like, 'So, whatever'", like the 'girlfriend' is saying it?
Or is it, "She's like so whatever", like 'whatever' is a put down?

Listen, I'm not trying to act like I'm Shakespeare here, but I feel like I write things a bit shinier, a bit more insightful than that and I am not getting paid anything.
Maybe it's cause I'm not the m.f.ing princess.

Want to know what pisses me off? Of course you do, that's why you're here, right? I want a house. I am sick of living in a tiny little apartment and paying rent that goes nowhere.
There are all these beee-Yoo-tiful historic houses downtown that are totally in my price range. Too bad the only reason that they're in my price range is that they are one or all of the following:
(1) Former student rental houses that have been treated like crap and rundown
(2) Not a rental but in a student neighborhood
(3) In a drug neighborhood.

Cool guys, thanks for that. Why do they do that? Why don't they take the shite-y little ranch houses and turn them into student housing and leave the historical houses alone. On the other hand, it's kind of a moot (?) point, because if they hadn't been run down, they would be WAY out of my price range and I wouldn't even be having this conversation. Still though, I'd rather have them still be nice and out of my price range than in it and crap-o.

Rebecca Takes the Lead and My Dad Enters the Contest























I can't add them to the counter yet because I'm not a computer genius like Robkabob.

Andrew!! You're going to have to send the picture to me because I canceled my Facebook account and can't see it. I really want it though, so send it to me!!!

Supplies and Demands

Today I looked Dragon Lady straight in the face and laughed. It was mean. And well deserved.
I had to order some damn binder clips and staplers. Even saying that makes me depressed. I don't want to be the type of person who looks through a catalog and fills out a requisition for staplers. But, alas, here I am. Anyways, I had loaned out my supply order book to a parapro whom I couldn't get ahold of. The only other person with a supply catalog is Dragon Lady. So I go to her office and say "Can I borrow your supply book for a second? I loaned mine out."
She looks me dead in the eye and says "My supply catalog doesn't leave my office."
I couldn't help it.
I laughed out loud, there and then.
I'm glad I'm not the type of person who has a personal philosophy about my supply catalog. I wish I didn't even have a supply catalog.

I cannot WAIT to go camping next weekend. I'm running my second 1/2 Marathon on Saturday morning and then Rob is coming up and meeting me and we're going to Traverse City State Park for the weekend. I am going swimming, I am making s'mores, and I am kicking Rob's ass at Scrabble. This will be Penny's first camping trip. All signs point to her being a total camping dog.

My Car Runs on Vanilla Iced Lattes

Do you know what gas is up to? $3.50 a gallon. This is also the price of a tall iced vanilla skim latte at Beaners. So, essentially, my car runs on lattes. My car and I have something in common, seeing as I also run on Iced Vanilla Lattes. Filling up my car this morning, I was really angry about it. I can't afford my own latte habit, much less my car's. And so I said to my car, "Screw that, car", and I only put $9.75 in gas in the car, which was luckily enough to get me to Beaners, where I bought myself a latte.

My dog can read. Every time we go downstairs she stops at the landing that's (dog)eye-level with the building bulletin board. Probably she's looking for a new owner. Or she's considering that 98' Geo Tracker for $1249. Either way, if she thinks I don't notice she's nuts. She's also nuts if she's really thinking about buying that Tracker, cause those cars are death traps.

I'm going to stop posting about my dog soon, I swear. This week for sure.

First and Then Second

First of all, here are some pictures from Ryan & Rebecca's bday party last night and Mother's Day today...




























































My mom is the only one who looks cute in this picture, but I guess it is her day...

Second. I about wet my pants when I read this to Rob yesterday. This is a letter to Dear Abby in the newspaper yesterday. It's funny enough that I'm willing to retype the entire thing here. Half of you will think it's hilarious and half will think I'm a big bitch for thinking it's funny. And, you know, you're both right...

Dear Abby:
Next to your column in today's newspaper was an article about a coming fad. It's camouflage clothing for young children. In part, it read, "The juxtaposition of the rough and rugged with the soft babyness is what gives the look its ying-yang charm. Kids in camo are, quite simply, adorable." As a retired 30-year veteran of law enforcement, I don't think it's adorable. I view it as a dangerous fad for children. During my many years of service in law enforcement, I participated in dozens of searches for lost children.
Abby, every year thousands of children are lost in this country. Some are found in a few hours, some in a few days, but others are never found. If you put just 2 or 3 percent of the children vacationing in the mountains, parks and wilderness areas of this and other countries in camouflage outfits, you will see even more tragedy because these lost children can't be seen. Lost children are hard enough to find when they are wearing red and orange outfits. If you dress a child in a camouflage outfit, she or he could be missed from 20 feet.
Please discourage parents from using these outfits- especially if they are traveling in the countryside or any other out-of-the-way place.
Sincerely,
Law Enforcement Veteran

Want to get rid of your kids? Throw them in the woods in camo. It's just that easy. Which reminds me of the time that my mom bought me that camo shirt in high school. I'm on to you, mom. Happy Mother's Day indeed.

I'm taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River line...

Want to see my pictures from NY?
Oh, right, I didn't take any.
Again.
Loser.

Here is the truth: My dog is the best dog ever.
Besides the fact that she's adorable she's superpowered.
Explain this to me: My dog is 1 foot tall, tops. Probably less. The baby gate we use to keep her in the kitchen or bathroom when we're gone is roughly three feet tall. So please explain to me why I keep coming home and finding her out of the kitchen or bathroom, sitting leisurely on top of my laundry.
Because my dog is SpiderDog, that's why.
You know she is either scaling the walls or using her webs to swing out of there.
For a while I was worried she was going to be one of those boring, well-mannered dogs. This is a huge relief.

Happy Mother's Day Mini!

CONTEST! CONTEST! CONTEST!
The first ever Lolalou.com contest.

The contest is "Who can find the most mascots/dressed up people/wierd statues/whatever to take their pictures with and then send them to me to post" contest.

For instance, if you happen to see a guy dressed up like a taco on the side of the road, you should pull over and get your picture taken with him. Or, for instance, there's a gigantic statue of a chicken on the way to my Nana's house which I should have gotten my picture taken with by now.

The only rule is that you have to be in the picture.

The prize is dinner. I will take the person who has the most mascot pictures out to dinner. Don't get excited, I won't take you anywhere nice. Probably Chili's or something. And you can't order a steak. But you can have a drink.

Rob's going to make me a score board and a special photo album for the contest.

I was going to give you some examples, but I can't find the memory card they're on.
You get the point though-
1. Find someone dressed like a taco.
2. Get your picture taken with them.
3. Email it to me.

I am COMPLETELY serious about this, so get on it.

I'm getting a foot tattoo, that's all there is to it.
I should disable comments on this post.

Don't even get me started on the day I had.
Dont. Even. Get me STARTED.
Plus, my dog has pneumonia.
And that was actually the least traumatizing thing today.

Once, we were at a karaoke bar with some friends. I got Rob to agree to let me pick out a song for him to get up and sing. So eventually they call him and he gets up there and he has the microphone in his hand and it turns out that I picked "Man, I feel like a woman" by Shania Twain. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being hilarity, I would estimate Rob's amusement at this situation as about a 3.

Today I ran a half marathon.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my whole entire life.
I didn't run it fast, but I finished it and that's all that counts, right?
My biggest accomplishment, however, is that I ran 9 entire miles before I had to stop at all.

I was looking at the website for the campground Rob and I are staying at over Memorial Day Weekend to see if it was okay for Penny to be there. It's a really nice campground, but I have a problem with the fact that the whole freaking campground is wireless internet enabled. Are you kidding me?!?! It's camping! There's no internet in camping!!
Please. When we camped, we camped like troopers. There was sand in the tent and we had to wash all the dishes in a little bin and there were disgusting bugs in the bathroom stalls. Clearly that was the good old days of camping.

In other news, my dog spends 23 of the 24 hours in a day puking.

Penny Estelle







































Here's our new dog Penny. I think that she's part Jack Russell, part Beagle, but I have no real dog-spertise, so that could be a total lie.
Equally as fun as having Penny in the house is watching Rob with Penny, such as this afternoon when I found him on all fours in the kitchen with Penny, 'demonstrating' where her food dish was. Maybe I would be the one to buy her a dog outfit, but Rob would be the one to put her in a stroller and take her for a walk. He'll deny it, but he's a total pushover for the dog.
Penny doesn't make any noise, including any barks. We haven't heard her bark yet. I think Ursula may have stolen her voice. Poor unfortunate soul.

P.S. Did my avatar get a boob job without asking me?!?

Two Stories, both alike in dignity...

Get it? GET IT?
Oh god, that was so geeky.

Here are two stories I thought about while running.

(1) You know how on CSI everything is a clue? Like, for instance, the 2cm shard of glass will lead you to the abandoned car with the blood of the killer? Right. CSI would never crack my case, because I do too many stupid, illogical things.
For instance, today when I went running, I didn't have any pockets so I couldn't bring my house key, but I had to lock the house, which I can't do except from the outside. So, I took my keys, locked the door and then locked them in my car.
Probably, had I been killed while running, they would have noticed my keys missing when they investigated my apartment. Then they would be on the key trail, they would think it's a clue, and when they found them in my car, they would be like "Why did she put them in the car? Was she leaving them for someone? Was she afraid someone would break into the apartment?"
When really, I probably just got hit by a car and none of that was any clue whatsoever.
Which reminds me, I totally saw a high speed car chase today! It was sweet

(2) Story number 2 is about Running Man, the man, the mystery, the enigma. Running man is a little like the penguin in Billy Madison and a little like the good angel/conscience on your shoulder thing.
Today, I'm a half mile from my house and I am so proud of myself because I have been lazy lately, but here I am 6.5 miles into a really hilly run. And I see The Hill coming. A half mile from my house is the biggest hill known to man. You could fall over backwards walking up it.
Okay, that's a lie.
But, it's BIG.
So I see it and I say to myself, "Laura. You have done so well today. You don't have to do The Hill. Take a break, walk the last half mile."
And there, coming down the side street, is Running Man.
Running Man is a Kalamazoo staple.
He is everywhere, everyday, and he is always, always running. Dude has been around since I was a freshman at Western, running like there's no tomorrow. Rain, Snow, Sleet, Earthquake, Running Man is running.
Running man is also approximately 65 years old and puts me to shame in every respect.
Does Running Man, turning off the side street, start walking up the hill?
Hells no, Running Man starts trucking it up The Hill.
DAMN YOU, RUNNING MAN! WHY MUST YOU ALWAYS PUT ME TO SHAME???
Like I'm going to start walking when running man, old enough to be my grandfather is booking it?
So I start running up the hill.
Yeah, that doesn't last.
WHO ARE YOU, RUNNING MAN? Where do you live? Do you have a job that doesn't involve running? Don't you ever get tired??
Just when I'm about to give up, you show up and push me just a little farther.
Come on, Laura, you can do it! I'm 65 and I do it with a smile! Run, Laura, Run!
I made it half way.
And so now I ask you:
Running Man. Guardian Angel? Manifestation of my conscience? or Arch Nemesis?

Revenge Of the Sea Creatures

Is this not the second or third story about a sea creature attacking a person in the last few months? I am telling you, the sea creatures are hatching a plan to kill us all. This is probably how the dinosaurs went. Bewaaaaarrreee the sea creatures.

Dude

Do you remember in elementary school when you'd say 'dude' and then another kid would be like "Do you know what a dude is? It's a hair on an elephant's butt!".

That is so stupid. Like someone would really spend the time to come up with a name for a hair on an elephant's butt? Why wouldn't they just say "elephant butt hair"?

I am here to tell you that there is no record of "dude" meaning that, according to my ultimate source of knowledge, Wikipedia.

Of course, I'm not sure why I really take that seriously at all, considering "shut up" was also supposed to mean "meet me in bed in five minutes."

... it doesn't mean that, right?

Please.

When at your local self-service beverage restaurant, please do not turn down buying a pop, get a glass for water and then fill the water glass with pop. It makes you look horribly cheap when you are, in fact, probably a nice person.

I Don't Get Into YouTube So Much, But... This Is Funny.

Plus, you know I feel the same way about Zach Braff.

The Wave and The Sixties

Update: Today, I saw my fox friend fishing for the first time. I'm glad he's branching out and trying new things. Although, he continues to eat all of his meals alone, despite the hungry tortise who lives across the pond from him, whom, I believe, would make an excellent dinner companion.

I am here today to talk about the wave. Not that retarded thing you do at sporting events. The Wave, as in, someone slows down and stops or holds back traffic in order to let you go.
Listen up. You always, ALWAYS, under ALL CIRCUMSTANCES, give someone the wave when they have performed such a monumental act of traffic kindness on your behalf. You don't just go, you ass. When you do that, when you go without so much as a wave, it makes me want to take it back. I sit and my car and yell at you (though you can't hear me) "NO PROBLEM, BUDDY, DON'T MENTION IT!" And then, next time, when I see someone waiting to go, I remember your non-wave, and I don't stop.
You, non-wavers, are single-handedly making the world a nastier place. Also, you are somehow causing global warming, though I can't pinpoint exactly how.

Disclaimer: Of course, the exception to this is in NY, where I feel lucky if I don't get honked at before the light turns green. You carry on with your non-wave NY, I think a wave would ruin your image.
BUT EVERYONE ELSE WAVES, GOT IT?

I'd also like to talk about the music of the 60's. I feel cheated, frankly. Sixties music is awesome and actually good. And what did I get? I got "I Wanna Dance With Somebody". Not good enough.
But I do feel fortunate that I'm not growing up now, because today's music is mostly whiny and crap-o, with a few exceptions. Good god, listen to how old I'm getting. Turned down that damned music, you kids! I'm two seconds away from chasing someone with a broom.
I made the sweetest 60's Mix cd on ITunes.

And lastly, a story about a lady at work. Seriously, she's the nicest lady in the entire world. But, for some reason, she insists on trying to talk to the kids in their 'lingo', if you will. For instance:
Kid: I can't fill this out right now, I'm gonna miss my bus.
Her: Oh, don't worry, just sit down and fill it out and I'll take you ho.. I mean, I'll take you to the crib.
I laugh hysterically when this happens. She's got to be sixty. Again, I love her, but it's got to stop.

I KNEW it!

Don't try to play me out, Cadbury! I've been there since Day 1. You think you could slip that by?
Okay. So I haven't been there since Day 1, persay. But I've been a lifelong fan.
Shame on you.
You can send me the other 15% via the US Postal Service at your convenience.

BTW- Turns out the lymphnode was, in fact, just a lymphnode. I didn't get a picture, sorry. What I did get was a postcard in the mail from my doctor with the test results, asking me if I wanted to have surgery done to remove the lymphnode. Think I'll go ahead and forgo the surgery, thank you.

So, I heard back from Tin House. I did not get the scholarship (which means I'm not going), but the lady did call me and say that I was one of only a handful of finalists, and that, had they not run out of money, they would have offered me a scholarship.
That's nice to hear, even if I didn't get it.
Probably though, I'll go ahead and go when I win the Michigan Millionare Raffle in April, since I'll be a million dollars richer and all.

Here's my new fun video recorder toy, plus me and Jen and Ryan bottling wine for their wedding:

Simple Things..

This is Lily and her boyfriend Matt. This is literally the only picture I took, in St. Louis and it's of their backs. I hope someone is around to tell me about my life when I'm old, because I certainly have no proof of anything I did.

On google, you can customize your homepage to be all the links to things that you want to read. And now you can also give your page a theme. For instance, I chose the theme with the fox who appears to be of asian descent. So there's this screen at the top of the page and it has my little fox friend. On one side of the screen is his orange orchard, in the middle is a little pond, and on the left is his little house built on stilts in the water.
I have developed an unhealthy attachment to my fox friend.
Depending on what time of day it is, he's always doing different things when you go there.
For instance, in the morning, he likes to pick oranges on a ladder in his orchard.
Around mid-day he's often washing his clothes in the river or enjoying his little picnic lunch with chopsticks.
At the end of the day, my fox friend likes to sit on his deck and play his banjo for the ducks.

This is becoming a problem. I really feel like he's my friend.
I visit often to see what he's up to.

Here are a couple of Easter pictures. I'm really trying hard to take more pictures but I'm a little lame at it.

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.