Damn you, Duck

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

Today: Sweet? I Think So.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm not even touching that one.

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

Christmas presents purchased today: 2

If I Could Change The World

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

FYI: The Fish Dies On Pg. 95

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

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

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

On Suckiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank O'Hara.

My Dream Job and Voting=cookies

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

Candy Smith
Angry Housewife

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

Candy Smith
Wears too much eyeliner

Candy Smith
Has a lisp

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

I'm a heartless bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

As Always, A Few Things..

Today I went to the eye doctor. As we all know, I somehow in my brain invent stories that then become memories and none of them actually happened. I swear to you that when I was 12, my eye doctor told my mom I had a growth in my eye, but that as long as it didn't get any bigger, it was fine. My mom says that never happened. She's like "Laura. Do you think that if someone told me there was a growth in your eye, I'd be okay with that?"
Good point.
But, I SWEAR it happened.
So today at the eye doctor I told him that there was a small possibility that, when I was twelve, I had a growth in my eye, but there was also a possibility that I made it all up. He decided to dialate my eyes, just to be sure.
The Good News is, there is no mass in my eye.
But the GREAT News is that I have super-human optic nerves!
My left optic nerve is TWICE THE SIZE of my right optic nerve and he said he's never seen anything like it. I told him that if he wanted to write a paper on me, I'd help him win the Nobel. He seemed less than interested. Also, I think he may have thought I was flirting with him, but believe me when I tell you that I was not.
The point is, people, I am...

THE EYE.

My tagline is going to be "You're getting on my nerve." And then I'm going to learn how to make my eye vibrate and freak people out.
Possibly my story could be adapted into an Oscar-winning movie tenatively titled "A Beautiful Eye."

Why Danny Is On My Good List

Last night, I had a dream that me, some other people, and the chihuahua I don't own were all standing next to a pool. Next thing I know, chihuahua jumps in. Whether or not chihuahuas can actually swim, I don't know, but my chihuahua was apparently still in need of water wings, cause he sank to the bottom like a freaking rock. It was the saddest thing ever, you could here him yelping underwater.
I was going to jump in and save him. But I don't like water. It's the whole 'can't breathe in it' thing. So I started yelling at everyone around me to jump in the water and save my chihuahua. Who jumped in? Danny jumped in. Cause Danny is friend to the chihuahuas.
Didn't I raise him so well?

Basically, What We're Saying Is "You've Been Warned"

Wax Lips

Today I got to thinking about wax lips. Do you remember those? There was a tiny little thing to bite on and then it looked like you had Mr. Potato Head lips. That's all fine and good. Except, we ate them. We ate wax.
Why did we eat wax? And we thought it was good.
No, scratch that.
We bought wax, and then we ate it.
We were some dumbass kids.
Now, Big League Chew, that was a WHOLE other story. Big League Chew remains, to this day, sweet. What was so awesome about big league chew was, there was no portion size. With gum, Bubble Yum, for example, you were restricted to the one piece, or you thought you were wasting your gum or being a pig. But Big League Chew, you could eat the whole freaking thing until your mouth was stuck open and, technically, it was basically still one piece.
Also sweet- candy cigarettes.

The Saddest of All Stories
I was told today that I could not have my chihuahua. Were you aware that chihuahuas only have a 4-hour bladder capacity and, therefore, cannot live with people who work for 8 hours a day? I was unaware.

All I Do On This Blog Is Bitch (and I love it...)

1st of all...
More than anything, more than punk-o kids and psycho parents, do you want to know what I hate about working in an office environment?
People are constantly laughing about things that are in absolutely no way funny.
It's like you work in an office and you automatically develop a tick where you laugh after everything you say.
For instance:
"Laura, do you have your walkie-talkie?"
"I already put it away."
" HAHAHA! I guess I should have checked first, eh? HAHAHAHAHA!"
"....yeah..."

or

"Hey, there are donuts up front. Better get yourself some donuts before they're gone, eh? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

EVERYONE DOES THIS.
I'm not talking about people who are trying to be funny, these weren't even supposed to be jokes.
It's like I'm working in a freaking psycho clown ward.
At first, I'd smile at them. Now I just stare.
At my SLC office job, people didn't laugh at things that weren't funny.

Today I officially became that lame adult I always knew I would be. I made a kid turn his shirt inside out.
How does a kid walk around a high school all day long in a shirt that says "Will Work Forehand Jobs" and no one catches on?

On an unrelated note-
Come on people. Stop messing with Aquaman

And lastly, please get out your list of words I hate and add "gossamer" and "pedagogy" to it and then strike them from your vocabulary forever.

Is It Any Wonder I'm Feeling Down In The Dumps?

Stories from The Mitten

1. I'm quitting my job and dedicating my life to this site.
Unrelated to The Mitten

2. Why are Jen and Lola so sad looking? Lola and Jen are looking sad because, in The Mitten, it snows in October. Great day for a 5K


















After the race, while we were waiting for Rob to pick us up, we met a limo driver who told us all about how they have a new process for cremation. They fill you with liquid nitrogen and then they put you on a vibrating table and you basically disintegrate. Just a little bit of friendly Saturday morning small talk.

3. Conversation I had today:
"Hey, Miss W., can you call somebody up for me?"
"Do you have a pass to be in here?"
"No."
"Go back to class."
"Aww, Miss W., can't I just kick it in here wit you?"
"No. Go kick it in class."

4. So I get this message the other day, and it's Sar telling me that she is telling someone The Carnie Story (yes, it's epic enough to be capitalized). Let me tell you The Carnie Story.

It all starts on Jenn's 19th birthday. If you're not from The Mitten, than you're probably unaware that Canada and the 19-year-old drinking age is a mere 45 minutes away. So, for Jenn's bday she wants to go to Canada. We go.
As a public service announcement, I would like to note that we had a designated driver.
I cannot tell you this portion of the story because it's inappropriate. Not because of anything I did, just inappropriate in general. Suffice it to say, we went to this nasty bar. Vomitous. We went to a vomitous bar. And, something happened to my eye so that the entire way home it was watering uncontrollably. We were a hot mess, collectively.

A week later, between Sara and I, we somehow decide we should go to the summer carnival. So we go, I'm a disaster, I'm wearing my glasses because something is clearly wrong with my eye. If you've never seen me in my glasses, just think magnifying glass. Anyhow, we're walking around and Sara sees this guy and she says "Why do I know that guy?"
I don't know this guy.
Eventually, she can't stand it anymore and she goes up to him and says "Why do I know you?"
He doesn't know her, but they get to talking.
Where do you think she saw this guy?
Just guess. Abandon all reason and guess.
This guy was in that nast-o club the week before. Yes, we have now run into a guy from a Canadian club at the Davison carnival.
But, this guy is from the other side of the state, what is he doing in rinky-dink Davison?
He's a pseudo-carnie.
He travels from carnival to carnival, blowing up the moonwalk and then taking it down.
And Carnie's got the hots for Sara, baby.
Carnie says to Sar "Hey, you guys want to go get something to eat?"
Now don't let the collectivity of 'you guys' fool you. I am only being invited because it's clear that Sara and her crazy bug-eyed friend happen to be traveling together. Perhaps he thinks it's some type of Big Brothers/Big Sisters thing.
I ask you, what does Sara, my best friend for ever and ever say?
Sara says yes.
We are going out for dinner with carnies.
We go to Archies.
Sara and Carnie McCarno chat it up.
I sit there and burn holes in newspaper with my glasses.
At the end, Carnie buys Sara's dinner.
I buy my own dinner.
Because Carnie don't love me.

Sara, to this day, has not adequately repaid me for the amazing feat of stick-by-you friendship displayed that night.
It's okay, Sar. Sometimes words just can't say how much you care. You know what would say "I love you" though? One of those giant Scooby-Doos from the ring toss. And maybe and airbrushed shirt.

5. And, lastly. My feeling is that Francine Prose has an unfair advantage at writing because her name means writing. It's like saying "Writing is my middle name", only your serious. There's a Spanish teacher at my school who's last name is French, and last time I went in there, the kids were pretty loud and weren't really listening. My feeling is that this is because she should actually be teaching French, and that's what happens when you fight destiny. Considering all of this, I'm looking to marry someone with the last name "Worksalldayforalotofmoneysomywifecanhangoutandreadandwrite".

A Few Ways to Waste Your Time Funly (What? Like You're Webster Now? Who Says It's Not A Word?)

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/21StephenThompson.html

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/6JefferyS.Taylor.html

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/6SalomTeshale.html

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/openletters/1facebook.html