On My Honor

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

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

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

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

Riddle Me This

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

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

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

Your Tuesday Irony

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

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

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

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

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

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

Funniest Things Of My Life. This Week.

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

2. Stephen Colbert. again.
Particularly this:

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

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

A Thing Or Five

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

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

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

4. I love my clothesline. So much.

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

Graduation, Etc.

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

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

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

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

HOLY. CRAP.

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

Dinosaurs Among Us

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

What Terrifies Me Is...

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

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

I LOVE Garage Sales

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

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

Also, John McCain's wife.

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

Literally.

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

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

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

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

Here's the post where I hate on songs

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

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

Tuesday Morning at Tuesday Morning

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

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

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

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

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

At the Catholic Services Agency

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

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

How to Have A Sucky Afternoon in 10 Steps

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

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

3. Feel sad.

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

5. Get lost.

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

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

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

9. Be cold.

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

Interesting things I learned from Jessica this weekend

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

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

I Can't Wait Until Erin Sees This

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

Wow.

This is fascinating.

The Call Girl Policy

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

Freecycle yourself a better attitude, rudey!

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

Things I Suck At

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's all I got.

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

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

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

Schadenfreude

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

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

Hope that gets you through your day.

Curious What My Top Three Favorite Books Are?

You should have just asked

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

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

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

My bad.

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

Lola as Movie Critic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Going to see Avenue Q this afternoon!

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

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

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

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

Pocket O'Yum

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

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

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

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

DUDE STOLE MY IDEA!

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

Twitter

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

I like the word 'twitter'.

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

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

Quick Update

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear Student Loan Lender

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

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

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

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

10 Reasons I Hate Subbing In Elementary Schools

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hooray!

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

Sara and Ryan are getting married! Hooray!

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

On the non-marriage-related topics:

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Good song.

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

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

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

How to Ruin Your Work Ethic

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

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

9 True Statements

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

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

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

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

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

Verbatim.

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

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

Here I Am

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

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

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

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

And other neurosis I have...

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

Why Children Shouldn't Watch T.V.

Watching Big Love totally makes me want to be a polygamist. Seriously, they look like they're having a lot of fun.

Rhubarb is a vegetable and doesn't belong in pie.

Contest Warm-Up

You have until Friday night to come up with a caption for my Christmas Avatar's new (cough) 'outfit'.
Winner gets a Rice Krispie Treat.

Update:
Sold another book on Half.com = $10.00
Money made at the clothing resale shop = $26.50

Today I filled out the form for our homeowners insurance. I got to the part where it says "past updates". We don't know about any past updates, and there's nothing in the disclosure because the person selling it isn't the person who lived in the house. So I call my insurance agent and I tell her that I know the roof and furnace are brand new, but I have no idea about the plumbing or electrical. This conversation transpires:

"Well, okay. How old do the pipes look?"
"....."
"Well do they look somewhat new?"
"What does a new pipe look like? Shiny?"
"How about you just look at them and take a guess about the year they went in?"

Okay, lady. You realize what you basically just said to me was "Pick a number between 1 and 100" right? How the hell am I supposed to know what year the pipes went in? Do pipes from different decades look different? Why don't you ask me questions about the house that I know the answer to, like, "What color are you painting the living room?", or "Is Rob going to buy you that cool wine cabinet you want?"

More, More, More!

It's entirely possible that I have an addictive personality. So, since the semester is (more or less) over, I'm subbing this week and next in order to make some extra $$ for the new furnace at our new house, so I don't have to take the money out of savings. I hate subbing. HATE it. Almost as much as I hate taking money out of savings. You see my dilemma. And yet, I'm obsessed with then online sub-job-getting system. It's like the thrill of getting something, you know? Like, "Oh! I saw it first! It's mine! YEAH!... shit. now I have to sub." I sit there while I'm doing things and repeatedly press refresh every five minutes or so. Okay, every two minutes. The point is, I have an addiction. With getting crappy sub jobs, it's not such a big deal. But when it comes to Ebay....
It's funny that Rebecca was just talking about the same thing the other day. With her, it's buying. With me, it's selling. We're starting to slooooowly pack things up for the move to the house, and I found a few books, mostly old text books, that I don't need anymore and I've been meaning to put on Half.com. So I do. And the textbook I bought when I was pretending to be an aerobics instructor sold for $25. I'm like, $25!!! SWEET! I've got ALL KINDS OF CRAP around here I can sell.
This is where it gets dangerous. I try to sell everything. What usually happens, in the long run, is that I end up selling something that I actually wanted and end up buying another copy of it for more money than I made off of the one I sold.
It's an addiction. I do it with clothes and the resale shop, too. Except that, half the time, the resale shop thinks it's too trendy for my clothes. Well screw you, I'll sell it on Ebay!

The good news is, I'm already scheduled to teach 3 classes next fall at the state university (I have to talk in code here, to protect the innocent). The bad news is, for next semester, I have one class at the state university and one at the community college, which means half the income. So I have to come up with another way to make up the difference. My first thought was some stupid secretary/administrative assistant job, but I can't because the community college class is in the middle of the day on a Friday, so I can't be full time at any 9-5 job. My second thought was subbing two or three days a week, but after only 3 days of doing that, I can tell you that that is NOT AN OPTION. You know what I hate? Telling people to be quiet. Repeatedly. Seriously, just shut up.
Anyways, so I say to Rob, Rob, what do you think I should do for another job?
Do you know what Rob's idea is?
Google AdSense.
Rob seems to think that putting ads on my blog is going to make up for SEVERAL THOUSAND DOLLARS a month.
I try to explain to him that about 10 people read my blog, but he's insistant. So, if Rob gets his way (and he has a way of doing that), you'll see some ads on my blog. Click on them. Maybe you can pay for my coffee. It will keep me warm in the unemployment line.

ALSO... a NEW CONTEST is brewing people, get your cameras ready...

OMG, U R TTLY FIRED!

So I've been going to this massage therapist for about a year now. Shut up, it comes with my insurance and it really does help my back and neck, which are always, always hurting. Anyhow, every once in a while, she'll start massaging with only one hand for extended periods of time. Which would make sense if she alternated hands. But she doesn't. All this time, this has baffled me. Why? What happened to the other hand?
Last night I realized what was going on. She's TEXT MESSAGING. I can HEAR the buttons if I listen very, very closely. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU'RE TEXTING WHILE YOU'RE GIVING A MASSAGE?
You know what that makes me feel like? It makes me feel like I go to a truck stop massage place. It also reminds me of that commercial where the girl is getting her hair done and the hairdresser is on the phone the whole time. Chewing gum.

P.S. In reality, my legs would look like tree trunks in that outfit. Thank God I have an avatar.

True Confessions

(1) Every once in a while, I'll open my cell phone, put it up to my ear, and think that it's broken because there's no dial tone.
(2) Today I gave out mini jars of play-dough in exchange for right answers. It was quite possibly the most enthusiasm I've seen out of my students all semester.
(3) I am ashamed of myself. I am ashamed of myself because my dog is currently wearing a puffy coat with a fake fur collar. What the hell happened to me? I think she hates me. Which is understandable, because I hate me for putting her in it.
(4) She looks damn cute.

Question:
Why do the Napa Auto Parts trucks have baseball hats on top? You sell auto parts, not baseball hats. You make no sense.

Pot

No, pot should not be legalized. Why? Because I think it's bad in some way? No. Because I think it's addictive or brain-addling or whatever? No. Honestly, I couldn't care less what you do with your brain. It shouldn't be legalized because I'm fricking sick of smelling it as it is.
Seriously, can you do something about that?
Did I mention that pot guy moved out last month? Yeah, but someone else in my building totally took up pot. Now, I will admit I know basically nothing about pot, but, after smelling new pothead's pot all the time, I'm thinking old pot guy was getting jacked. New guy's pot, while completely gross, still smells a lot better than old guy's pot.

I ordered my dog a sweater. She seemed cold.

Why I Hate Going to the Optometrist

1. "Is this lens better....flipflip....or is this lens better?"
Geez, man, I don't know.
Sometimes I think he's testing me and not even flipping them, so then I say that one is better than the other, but they're the same lens, and then he knows I'm a fraud.

2. Don't touch my eyelids.

3. The part where he gets the little eye telescope and moves all around my eyes like a crazy madscientist and I'm supposed to keep a straight face.

4. That DAMN PUFF OF AIR IN THE EYE. I keep telling them that, when I was a little kid, my optometrist at least had a eye-puffer with a picture of a tractor in a field inside, so I could distract myself while you blow air into my corneas.

5. You have to change the line of letters I read to you. Otherwise, I just memorize it.

6. I'm worried that I have bad breath the entire time.

7. The part at the end where I get lectured for wearing my contacts for a year at a time.

Avatar

Avatar Me says: Yup. Definately dead.
Yoda says: Hmph! Dead, he is!

Your Guide To Christmas Music and Thanksgiving Dinner

Best contemporary Christmas song:
God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman by Barenaked Ladies (minus S. Maclachlan, who bugs me)

Second best kind-of-contemporary:
What Christmas Means to Me My Love by Stevie Wonder

Also Good:
Funky, Funky Christmas by NKOTB (You KNOW Joey-Joe is ready! Jordan and Jon? Yeah! Come on! We gotta funky, funky Christmas going on!)
(Begrudgingly) Mariah Carey "All I Want For Christmas Is You"

Most hysterical Christmas lyric:
"Blessings from above!
God sends you his love!"
N'Sync "Merry Christmas"
("Oh, hey! I just saw God! He said to tell you, hi!")

Best Traditional Christmas Song:
Silver Bells
Carol of the Bells (though, I swear they're saying, "Oh, Hannaukah! Oh, Hannaukah!, which confuses me)

Avoid:
Boring stuff.

Best Thanksgiving Foods:
Stuffing
Pumpkin Pie

Worst Thanksgiving Foods:
Green Bean Casserole
Squash
Cranberries
Gravy
Other stuff Erin brings

I'm A Horrible Parent

Yesterday, we ran out of dog food, but it was too late (read: I was too lazy) to go to Petsmart, so I fed my dog a bunch of Milkbones instead.
She seemed okay with it.

Unacceptable

Yesterday, I was at the gym on the treadmill, so obviously I have to watch whatever's on the TVs. And so I see, for the first time ever, "I Love New York 2"
No.
This is unacceptable.
WHAT IS THIS CRAP? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
Look at me, turning into an oldie.
Really though, what a massive waste of... everything.
I actually felt furious.

So I'm Not That Refined

(1) CDs, off the top of my head, that I can play all the way through without wanting to skip anything.
Barenaked Ladies "Rock Spectacle", stolen directly from Gordy
John Mellencamp's Greatest Hits (hmm... also stolen from Gordy)
Indigo Girls "Swamp Ophelia" (not Gordy's)
Garden State Soundtrack
Ani Difranco "Out of Range" (stolen from Sara)
Jack Johnson anything
Van Morrison's Greatest Hits

If I'm in a melodramatic mood:
Bright Eyes "I'm Wide Awake It's Morning"

Three songs that remind me of Sundays when I was a little kid and we drove to my Nana's every Sunday:
(1) Rich Girl by Hall and Oates
(2) Fire and Rain by James Taylor
(3) Operator by Jim Croce

Now, to be clear, there is no guarentee that I actually ever heard these songs on the way to my Nana's, but nonetheless. Which reminds me of this- Danny and I are talking about house buying and I tell him how much Gordy says they paid for their house, and Danny says, "No they didn't, they paid this much", then proceeds to tell me how much they paid, PLUS how much our old house sold for. To which I say:
(1) What the hell! You were 12! How do you remember that?!?
(2) What happened to all of my memories!?! I remember NOTHING about ANYTHING!
Someone stole my memories, Matrix-style. I think I took the blue pill on accident. Or the red pill. See, I can't even remember that part of the movie. Jerks!

(2) Today, I took my niece to see Disney's High School Musical Live at the Civic. Let's be honest, it was like the awesomest thing I've seen in a while. You may recall that a few weeks ago Rob and I walked out of MacBeth because we were bored. At High School Musical? Captivated. What that says about me, I don't care to speculate on, so I will move on.

(3) Oh, hey, we bought a house. Ha! How crazy is that?

Etc.

Today around 2 in the afternoon, when we both had a million things to do, Rob and I decided to go see a movie. Why not? Shall we talk about how good Gone, Baby, Gone was? Unbelievably good. Not just an suspense movie, people. Okay, not philosophy, exactly, but a huge moral dilemma. It was fantastic.

Applied for a new job today.

Went running and decided to take Penny because I feel incredibly bad when I go and leave her at home. She doesn't get enough exercise as it is. But she's just so incredibly bad. I regretted taking her the minute we started running. First of all, she runs way faster than I do, which means that I'm not only running, I'm holding Penny back at the same time. Then she sees squirrels. She sees squirrels and starts running for them, so I pull her back, but she wont give up and I am telling you this dog is literally airborne and I'm still running. How are you supposed to run while pulling an airborne dog along?

Started working on a new story. Don't jinx it by asking me about it, because I won't tell you.

Let's Discuss the Word "Easy"

I downloaded some recipes. I thought I should start pseudo-cooking, because it's cheap and healthier. These recipes have a difficulty level on them, and I chose a bunch that said 'easy'.

My definition of easy is
(1) Eggs
(2) sandwiches
(3) going to Pita Pit and getting a chicken pita (and even that's a bit of a pain, once you drive there, stand in line, wait for your chicken to cook and go down the line of what you want in your pita).

Let me tell you what was included in my 'easy' recipe.
(1) Cleaning and cutting vegetables. Real vegetables, not frozen.
(2) Steaming the vegetables. Not in the microwave, in a steamer. I didn't even know we had a steamer until Rob showed me that our pot had a handy little steaming bucket.
(3) After that, I had to saute the vegetables
(4) Add eggs to skillet. (That I can do).
(5) THEN, broil the damn skillet in the oven.

Reasons why this is NOT an easy recipe.
(1) I had to do three different things to the vegetables
(2) I had to use three different cooking containers.
(3) I had to use the range and the stove.
(4) Anything involving steaming is not easy.

Which is why I'm having Pita Pit tonight.

People I Would Consider Leaving Rob For:

1. Stephen Colbert
2. Jim from The Office

That is all. That's pretty good, don't you think? Only two people and they're both completely unattainable. That, my friend, is love.

This is the only thing worthwhile on the internet

It makes me happy when skies are gray.

My 600th Post is About Nasty Ice Cream

I forgot to write about this. After we eat last night, we're on our way to the theatre when Rob says, "Want to get some TCBY?" Okay. If you live in Kzoo, you know that the downtown combination Subway/TCBY is nast. Really. Not cool. I'm like.. "Uhh...no." Rob wants TCBY though. When we walk in, one of the people who works there is outside on the curb smoking a cigarette. We go inside.
The ice cream cases in there look like someone got locked inside and tried to claw their way out. There are yucky smudges and stuff stuck to them. The lady comes in and Rob's like "I'd like a hot fudge sundae.
Lady: "Hold on." Opens the hot fudge container. No gloves. Peers inside. Starts scraping it off the sides. "Okay"
Puts 8 pounds of "Vanilla ice cream" (Brown vanilla? Is that like Choc-nilla?) in the container, scrapes the hot fudge off the side of the container and flicks it on top, and it looks curdled. Puts tons of whip cream on top and about a cup full of nuts. Rob hates nuts. Sticks a spoon in it.
Rob: "Thanks"
Rob then walks outside, stops in front of the trash can, throws it in there and we continue on to the theatre.
Moral: You are either Subway or you are TCBY. You are never SubBY.
Also, don't lock people in the ice cream freezer.

Once again, my childhood is a sham.

Here's what I remember: We used to go over to the Edwards' house and Mrs. Edwards made the most AWESOME Kool-Aid. It was- get THIS- Lemonade and Orange... mixed. Seriously, though, it was really good.
So, while at the grocery store this week, I thought to myself.. I'm going to make Mrs. Edwards Kool-Aid. So I did.
It's Tang.
It tastes EXACTLY like Tang.
And it's not even as good as I remember it being.

That is so fricking disappointing. I hate it when you find out that something you thought was so cool really wasn't that great. Like back in middle school, when I found out Erin wasn't as cool as I thought she was. What a blow. Though I should have seen that coming.

Tonight we went to see MacBeth at the Civic. Well, we saw half of it anyways. We got bored. Are we ADD or something? That's okay. It was pretty much done after Rob leaned over and said "McDuff looks like the guy from the Quaker Oats box" and I could no longer keep a straight face.

So. Flipping. Hilarious.

Then Buy Me a F**&ing Popsicle Already

Son: Dad, can we buy Popsicles?
Dad: Why don't we make our own at home?
Son: Yay! I want to make seltzer flavor!
Dad, sighing: Well, that would just be an ice cube.

--C-Town, Park Slope

Overheard by: Hiland

via Overheard in New York, Oct 11, 2007

Why I Own the Color Green

WHY? There's no why. I just do. Which is why I need all of you to get off of it. I knew green way back when blue and yellow were just getting together. I knew green before he made his money, so he knows he can trust me. So, when I go into Target, two days after the last time I was there, and see that all those cute green puffy vests are sold out, it ticks me off, people. It ticks me off. I wasn't going to buy one of the vests, but I know that there are about a zillion people out there now wearing the cute vest in the color that I own. What happened to blue? I thought blue was so great.
Posers.

Overheard in Target:
College-aged girl reading birthday card-
"It's your birthday, let's get loco...(dramatic pause).. I don't know what that means."

... FIGHT ON, FIGHT ON FOR WES-TERN!

Know what band is good that I forgot about? Sister Hazel. I wish they wouldn't have named themselves that, but I really enjoy their music. Particularly "Champagne High". Also, others. I like them not only because their lyrics are pretty interesting, but also because they're happy. Even when they're depressed, they're still pretty happy. Do you feel like all the songs are depressing these days? The other day we were talking about music in one of my classes and I told my students that their generation's musicians have serious daddy issues. I swear, if I hear one more song by someone who led a perfectly lovely life about how their dad ruined everything, I may go insane. No one laughed, but I'm used to that by now.

Poll:
Song that makes you cry all over yourself. Yes, I've asked this question before. Answer anyways.
Mine= The Scientist by Coldplay

Also, what's your favorite Dave Matthews song? Mine is "Lie in our Graves". My sister's is "Everyday". She cries all over herself when she hears that song.

Speaking of my sister, she had her tonsils out today, not because she had tonsilitis, but because she had some type of germiness living in her throat that was eating her tonsils. If you know my sister, this is hilarious because she is a GERMAPHOBE. It's poetic justice.

Sign of the Impending Apocolypse #1

Yesterday I was in a Hallmark store and they had those little blank journals with an inspirational quote on the front. Which is cute and all. Except the quote was from Gwen Stefani. "My life story is writing itself".
Oh, Gwen, you sage. If I hadn't seen your name below it, I would have thought Confucius said it.
WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN, MY LIFE STORY IS WRITING ITSELF?

So I'm obsessed with Jimmy Johns all of the sudden. Not sure where that came from.

I'm about to go teach a class for 2 hours and then I have the next 4 days off. I have been looking forward to this for way too long.

Dear State of Michigan,
Work it out.
Love, Laura

Seriously, people, do you not see the irony in the fact that you're holding out so that people don't have to pay higher taxes, but by holding out, a bunch of people aren't going to get paid at all? I'm going to go ahead and get in line for paying taxes a teensy bit higher than usual.

And why would you pass an extension? So you can not come up with a plan for 30 more days? Great. Great idea.

On another note, I suck. Yesterday, I was on the elevator and, just as the doors were closing, a girl in a wheel chair approached the elevator. Naturally, instead of acting quickly like any normal person, I just kind of stood there. I do this a lot. It's like I need that time-out super power because my brain doesn't work as fast as other peoples'. You know how this ends. The elevator doors closed before the girl could get on.
I am so retarded and horrible.
In my defense, I did hit the 'door open' button several times.
Somehow, I don't think this is going to make much of a difference when I'm sent to hell.

He Says He's Sorry

Street preacher: The day of repentment is here!
Passerby: 'Repentment' isn't a word...
Street preacher: It's the word of God.

--42nd & 5th

Overheard by: The Professor

via Overheard in New York, Sep 25, 2007

YARRRGH!

I didn't miss it this year!! Tomorrow is Talk Like A Pirate Day!!! I'm now coming up with ways that I can incorporate this into my classes tomorrow. I've been looking for a way to get rid of that very last shred of professional dignity and I think this is it.

(1) My brain works like a computer.
653-0047- Know what that is? My best friend from kindergarten's phone number. But here's the thing; I only remember it because I never updated it, as in, she never got a new phone number while we were still hanging out. If she had, I would only remember the last phone number she had.
I'm sure this is really intruiging, but I've got to move on people.

(2) Is 'kindergarten' a German word? Say it with a German accent. It sounds German to me.
Mini? My mom's like a human Rosetta Stone. I'm going to start calling her Rosetta. Maybe Rosy. She'll love that.

(3) I'm going to see Jamaica Kincaid tonight. She's a genius, maybe she'll be able to make me a genius with her genius advice.

(4) Papers I promised to return tomorrow: 10 read, 9 to go. Which would be good if I wasn't driving up to GR to see Jamaica Kincaid in about 10 seconds.

(5) My life, in minature:
Me: Rob, you left the sliding door open again
Rob: Well the ninjas have to get in some how
Me: Rob, there are no ninjas here
Rob:... Laura... don't piss them off...
Which would be funny if, the next night, he had remembered to close the sliding door when we went to bed. Not the case. I swear to you, if it happens again, there had damn well better be a ninja dozing on my couch or I'm going to fist fight Rob. And everyone knows he cries like a little girl.

(6) Heroes. One week from yesterday. Feel the power.

My inbox is drowning in emails. And none of them mention money, a high-pay low-effort job, or the desire to publish any of my stories.
On the upside, none of them mention Cialis either.

On Movies

(1) Balls of Fury.
Not really that funny. Joe was totally right when he said that all of the movies are the exact same now. What's with all of the sudden the whole "find an obscure or somewhat ridiculous sport and make it into a comedy movie" thing? Here's an example or 10:
Balls of Fury
Dodgeball
Blades of Glory
Talladega Nights

Get a new idea, people.

The one funny part was that the evil guy had a pet panda. But it was dead. Because the guy didn't know what it ate. That's right- ridiculous sports? Not funny. Dead endangered species? Funny. Please try to keep up.

(2) About some previews...

(a) Umm... have you seen the preview for the second National Treasure movie? Let's move right past the fact that the first National Treasure movie was a piece of ridiculous crap and onto this new one which is called "Book of Secrets". Yeaaaahhh.. turns out that there's a "President's Book of Secrets", which details all of the secret undercover stuff by previous presidents, such as the inside assassinations and stuff. Wow. Killer plot, guys. Is there are a heart-shaped lock on the President's Book of Secrets? Is it hidden underneath the President's mattress?
So, what do you do if you need to see the book and uncover a historical scandal?? Why, you kidnap the president to get it, of course!
STOP. WASTING. CELLULOID.
STOP PROLONGING NICOLAS CAGE'S CAREER.
In creative writing, every professor on earth tells their students to read things out loud to themselves, to hear what it sounds like. Clearly, no one read this plot outloud. Or when they were sober.

(b) I also saw a preview for Resident Evil: Apocolypse. I've never seen any of these and really have no opinion one way or another, though I know I personally would hate them. But the plot reminds me a little of the 28 days later/28 years later/28 decades later/whatever thing, which is to say: Last 20 or so people on Earth, everyone else is a zombie/vampire, have to defend themselves every waking moment.
This got me to thinking. Really. If there are only 20 or so of you left in the world, and the Earth is ruined... what are you holding out for? I'm not going to lie to you, at that point, I'd just go ahead and throw in the towel and call it a day. Is there some reason in particular that you are so adamant about continuing to live your miserable, day to day existance of living in a wasteland, fighting off zombies and watching your friends die? Go ahead and get the big Zombie kiss of death and call it quits. Clearly, there's a reason that the fate of the human race is not resting in my hands. The only thing that would change my mind about this scenario is if I, by some miracle, had access to the Presidents Book of Secrets. Everyone knows that zombies were created by the government, which means that the Presidents Book of Secrets would have the antidote to zombieism in it, and then I would turn all of my loved ones back into people.

(3) Superbad
Not as funny as I was hoping.

Hells Yeah Sea Fugitives!
You think we're going to take it anymore? You think we're gonna stand by why you eat all our fellow homosapiens? YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!
What do we want? No more sea creature maimings!
When do we want it? Now!
And who brought you this story first, folks. That's right, lolalou.com

I just ran into Stuart Dybek at the coffee shop. Should that be more surreal than it is? As I was talking to him, I pulled the anthology I'm using in my creative writing class out of my bag and realized that one of his stories is in it. He was wearing a Franz Kafka shirt.

I like Water Street a lot, but the music is too damn loud. All the time. Also, a lot of time it's that spoken word with music in the background stuff. I'm just not that hip.

What is the name of the treaty that the US signed after World War II saying that, if there were to be another genocide like the Holocaust, we were required to step in and stop it? So far, in mentioning it to my classes, I have called it the Warsaw Pact (which it is not) and the Geneva Convention (which was... a convention, it turns out, and not a treaty of any kind). Hopefully, they are paying as little attention as they appear to be paying, and won't have even noticed.

Apparently, Ugly Is The New Fall Fashion

I'd like to talk about one of the many things that bugs me. Namely, trying to buy new clothes. What the heck is up with the new styles for fall?! They are U-G-L-Y. On Saturday, Erin Indiana and I were in Urban Outfitters. Granted, that store is always a little outside the realm of day-to-day streetwear stuff, but there are always some cute things in there. No. Do you know what they had in there? Vests. Listen, I lived through the 80s. I don't wear vests. I'm all uglyed-out. Also? Tapered jeans with zippers at the bottoms. Tapered jeans don't look good on anyone. You could weigh 98 pounds and you would still have badunka-dunk butt in tapered jeans.
But it's not just Urban Outfitters. The other day I was out to Buy Clothes, which means, "Screw it! My clothes are all old and boring! I'm buying a new wardrobe!" I walked out of Old Navy with one $10 shirt.
There are two explanations for this-
1. Everything truly is ugly.
2. I'm getting old.
For a while, I thought it was number 2, but then I saw the vests and I was off the hook.

I'd also like to discuss Audio Books.
I've been listening to a lot of them on my morning commute. Little known fact: People who do the reading on audio books? Intolerable. They ruin the whole story. Right now I'm listening to The History of Love by Nicole Krauss, which is SO GOOD, except for the fact that whoever is reading the 15 year old girl character totally misinterpreted her and made her obnoxious when she's supposed to be just kind of quirky.
It is a struggle just to keep listening.
These are the things I struggle with on a daily basis, people. But your donations can help. For just the price of a iced skim vanilla latte, you can make a difference.

Way in which I'm being a be-ah this week:
I just don't know if we're going to be getting along so well with our new neighbors. Reason being that, out of nowhere last night they start BLASTING AC/DC so loud that our walls start shaking and Penny starts freaking out. It sounded roughly like this:
"THUN-DA!! THUN-DA!! Bark! Bark! What the fu? THUN-DA!! BAAAARRRKKK!!! Squeak! (Mr. Frogowitz) THUNDA!"
They'll be none of that. Rob went over and knocked on the door, expecting a couple of college kids and... they're approximately 30. Seriously, people? He says to Rob, "Oh.. sorry Bro."
Yeah.. Bro.
As we were leaving we hear a guy and a girl running in the hall, giggling and chasing one another.
Awesome. I looked up the number for Public Safety. Seriously, don't think I won't.

This week my students are going to learn the following thing:
When it is appropriate to say 'good' and when they should actually be saying 'well' instead.
They will not be learning the proper placement of a semi-colon, unless they learn it from someone else. If they do, I hope that they'll be kind enough to pass that information along to me.