Random

• My friend Kitty Kat posted this on my wall tonight. Why? No idea.
  
  
• 

  Kat 

  When you go to the delicatessen store,
  Don't buy the liverwurst,
  Don't buy the liverwurst.
  I repeat what I just said before,
  Don't buy the liverwurst,
  Don't buy the liverwurst.
  
  Oh buy the corned beef if you must,
  The pickled herring you can trust,
  And the lox puts you in orbit A-OK.
  But that big hunk of liverwurst
  Has been there since October First,
  And today is the Twenty-Third of May!
  
  So when you go to the delicatessen store,
  Don't buy the liverwurst,
  Don't buy the liverwurst.
  It'll make your insides awfully sore!
  Don't buy the liverwurst.
  Don't buy the liverwurst!

  26 minutes ago ·  ·  · See Friendship

  • • 

      Kat I seem to remember slightly different lyrics...

      25 minutes ago · 
    • 

      Johanna This is the most random thing ever. Ever. I'm going to blog this.

      about a minute ago · 

Fluffy

Can't think of anything.

So this is a fluff post.

Pure fluff. No substance.
Hope you find it enjoyable.

Love, Me

A Thought

Sometimes it's so hard to hold one's tongue,

never knowing how a misplaced phrase will be taken,

never wanting to offend.

But I can't help but wonder if the

world would be better with a bit more

bluntness

and

directness.

Would we fill up with hate

Or would we start to treat each other

with MORE love

because we knew how much our

actions or words

hurt the people close to us

because they didn't try to spare our feelings

and told us exactly how those words made them feel?

What is honesty worth?

Lovely Sentiments

To see the Summer Sky

is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie --

True Poems flee

-- Emily Dickinson

Image

Wouldn't It Be Loverly?

We should all move into the wild,

and live like fairy queens and kings.

We'll feast on berries and drink nectar

while we dance with woodland creatures.

Shopping Cart Mystery

My new neighbors (man with scary uni-bomber beard and generic looking woman) have a shopping cart in their driveway. It's "parked" on their property but it's touching our house. That's what I hate the most about the shopping cart: the way it leans into our side of the house like it's been drifted there by the wind. But that's not the case because clearly there are NO supermarkets near enough for any wind not of Katraina-esque proportions to move a cart to my neighbor's house. It isn't even parked with a purpose, like they may have just "borrowed" the cart for some home clean up. Why is this happening? Why would they need to bring a shopping cart home with them? They have a car. They have a home. What other purpose does a shopping cart provide other than carting objects home -- which the car takes care of -- or carting around your objects because you don't have a home. Plus, I'm fairly certain that the local Smith's would consider their shopping cart being found outside the confines of the store or parking lot, theft. I'm living next door to facially hairy thieves.

I'm going to give it a few days and see what they do with it.

Absolutely

Lovely.

From Raindrops on Roses

Factoids

I love it when the date and the time coincide. For instance: August 11th at 8:11.
I love it when the time is in numerical order, like 12:34 or 5:43 or 3:21.
I love it when numbers in a phone number have a common denominator.
I love it when a phone number makes a pattern on the buttons when you dial it, like a cross or an X.
I love to pay with exact change but I never have any cash.
I love to make the tip the right price to make the total a whole number.
I love it when the syllables in a sentence match the number of words in a sentence.
I love to spell words backwards and forwards in my mind over and over again.
I love names that use alliteration, such as Mary Murphy.
I love to find typos in published novels. I mark them with post-its and brag to my husband.

Week in Review

• Ate healthier ... and ate less
• Ballet twice
• Gym twice
• Work everyday
• No writing
• Relaxed with the hubs and puppy
• Showered
• A birthday party
• Picked up library holds
• Hated many drivers
• Started a new book
• Discovered 'Intervention' and 'Obsessed' on A&E
• Won a game of Words with Friends

Reasons Not to Get Drunk with Friends at Your Own House

1. Your husband and friend will try to "keep up" with each other, leading to the intake of copious amounts of alcohol.
2. Your friend will pee in the bathroom -- but misses the toilet and hits the surrounding floor instead.
3. You yell and make your husband and friend clean up the mess.
4. But they're too drunk to clean up pee; they just keep trying to put paper towels in the toilet bowl, or yelling that you're being a bitch, or claiming that they didn't pee all over the floor, or your husband will yell out your name when the friend gets pee on his arm -- because said friend is gesturing his hand, which is holding pee-paper-towels, angrily at you.
5. You end up cleaning the pee, removing the rug, and the scale.
6. You come out of the bathroom and find them attempting to wrestle in the teeny living room.
7. You yell (again) and ban them to the backyard if they want to "fucking wrestle."
8. The dog will keep barking and growling so you head out to bring her inside ... and to find out if they are dead. No, they are not dead. Instead, they both have dog shit on their pants. And your husband has a grass burn on his forehead from his friend shoving his face into the lawn.
9. You clap your hands to get their attention, and then yell (again), "Get the fuck up. You both have dog shit on your fucking pants" or something like that. And as they slowly come to this realization, they wander up to the house where you ask them to remove their pants. And the friend leaves on his bicycle; he probably hates you. And your husband takes a nap, apologizing and promising never to do that again.

Disclaimer: I know this story makes me sound semi-trashy.
I promise, I am not; hence all the yelling and saying of "fuck."
This was a random World Cup rumpus that will not occur again in my lifetime.
At least let's hope not.

10 Things That Piss Me Off

1. Pink tights every day in ballet
2. Everyone driving the same speed, and the speed is LESS THAN 50
3. Irrational reactions to a misunderstood situation
4. Doubt
5. Fear of looking old -- I shouldn't be afraid of looking old
6. People who think hamburgers should cost $1
7. Comments made by others in faux self-deprecation that are meant to belittle you
8. People who say they "hate" TV; please join the social world
9. Sunny skies but cold temperatures
10. Dirty fingernails

And One More Thing

Look at Reese Witherspoon's toes in this picture.

I got this pic from The Skinny Website.

Hey -- don't be a hater.

A little harmless celebrity/weight obsession is normal.

Strange. What do you think is going on there? The second toe is crazy long and then the fourth toe is non-existent or shorter than the pinky toe. Maybe the toes are moving because she's walking, or maybe her shoes are uncomfortable. God that looks weird. Like a deformed foot.

The State Song

My husband is so silly.

Do you know the "State Song?" It's this song that you learn in elementary school that teaches all the names of the states in alphabetical order. In good keeping with the educational system, we practice it at our house. After all, we don't want to be deprived of Thanksgiving dinner like Ross because we can't remember the 50 states.

Anyway, we're driving home the other night and he keeps singing it over and over. Everytime he makes a mistake, he begins again. It took him almost the entire 15 minute drive home to get it perfect. The Ns in particular were giving him trouble.

I hate this song now.

Happy Belated Easter

Last night as we were making a late dinner, Tom opened the cupboard and said, "Oh."

I turned to my beloved, waiting for the epiphany, thinking it must be some declaration regarding food in the cupboard. He continued, "I think there's a chocolate bunny under the passenger seat in the old car. I'm gonna go get it. It's probably still good, right?"

And away he went to retrieve it.

A New Threat to Our Youth

I'm at the grocery store buying ingredients for funeral potatoes which I am making for a friend's birthday. Tom is there and we are in a hurry, arms full of sour cream, milk (because there is none in the house), hash browns, and cheese. As we approach the check stand we set our things down and I happen to see this on the rack:Oh. My. God. Were you aware of this danger to our (and by 'our' I mean society's) children? Tom and I were immediately horrified (and by 'horrified' I mean thought-it-was-ridiculous) and began reminiscing on why we hate Reader's Digest, as well as why we hate rampant sex-scandal paranoia. Tom scoffs, and then, using his best indignant woman voice, cries out, "Oh no!" I start laughing and as we turn to begin our approach to the cashier, we notice a different cashier from the aisle adjacent to ours glaring at us. Openly, un-apologetically glaring.

I guess she doesn't find sexting a laughing matter. And she's right. Please change the nation's threat level to RED.

PS: I don't appreciate Reader's Digest using an iPhone for the cover. First of all, most people who read Reader's Digest don't understand the wonder of the iPhone. Second of all, most people who are concerned about sexting don't understand the wonder of the iPhone. It's practically slander.

Parking Wars

I have new neighbors, well, neighbors period. Our apartment complex is just beginning to fill up. We've had blissful quiet and free reign of the area for the last 4 months. Now we have neighbors. And on the one day we have the old car out for the day, they steal our parking space. It's not technically 'ours' but we park there all the time -- it's right outside our door. They live on the other side of us and the distance means that the space shouldn't be theirs. They park this huge, disgusting truck in a space meant for cars. Their little hooky towey thing sticks out into the road. I hate this. So for the last two days I've been stalking the slot in the hopes that I can slip the car back to its home.

Today: VICTORY!

Shortly after 10:30 this morning I just happened to peek out the window before hopping in the shower. I was actually looking to see if the truck was still there, but lo and behold, I saw two people walking past the apartment. These mystery people are said neighbors. I run downstairs and crack open the front door. Yes, they are in fact entering the monstrosity and then driving away. Ah ha. I quickly jump in the car and return it to its established parking spot, where it will sit for the next week, proving to the new neighbors that that parking spot is OURS. Eat our car, people we don't know.

Personal Grooming

Do you remember in 'Clueless' when Josh asks Cher "Do you know how many hours a day you spend grooming yourself?" This is an interesting question I am asking myself. A brief list of some things I do on some days:

1. apply makeup
2. shower
3. blow dry hair
4. brush hair
5. do hair (i.e. ponytail, curling, waving, you know 'doing')
6. paint nails
7. file nails
8. trim nails
9. get a pedicure
10. whiten teeth
11. brush teeth
12. wash face
13. moisturize using anti-aging cream
14. get dressed
15. put on lotion
16. shave various areas
17. pluck eyebrows
18. wear perfume
19. wear jewelry
20. sleep
21. pop zits
22. use nose strips
23. dye hair
24. trim hair
25. use hairthings like headbands/scarves
26. curl eyelashes
27. pumice heels

Doesn't that sound ridiculous? I mean, I don't do all that shit every day, but goddamn; that seems like an awful lot. I'll have to think of something I can cut out...maybe the sleep. Sometimes I hate being a high-maintenance low-maintenance-appearing female.

Everyone's an Idiot But Me

I often become frustrated because I feel like everyone around me is an idiot. I don't say this to be mean -- rather, I say this to vent so that I don't yell at an inappropriate time how fucking retarded everyone is. I'm also not saying this because I'm smarter than everyone. More so, this feeling comes from the inability to say what I really feel. And what I really feel, at least in the beginning, is only a mild sort of impatience with someone's actions. It has nothing to do with their intelligence (or lack thereof) but rather with situational (i.e. diplomatic) requirements which deem me dumb. Then, as the forced silence grows, so does the frustration and it eventually turns to thoughts of "everyone's an idiot but me" despite the original "offense" of the anonymous other being slight. I hate feeling like this.

I can understand why people have aneurysms and die.

It's Happening Again

I really hate dejavu.

What the hell is it?

Someone please tell me.

The brain can't make up memories that never happened.

It really creeps me out when it happens.

And I know it's totally stupid - don't judge me,

But I sometimes think:
"Oh my god, maybe we really are plugged in to some horrible "matrix" machine and our entire world and our physical bodies are nothing and dejavu is a glitch in our collective hive mind!"

But that's stupid, right?

Totally crazy.

Also, please see this cool link about other funky mind phenomena.

It's a Mosquito Bite

So... I would rather not talk about this, but I can't help but admit that zits are an annoyance to me. I am now a ripe old age of 25. Shouldn't zits be a long gone story? I have always been fortunate enough to have good skin - I get by with relatively little work (like washing/exfoliating/makeup/acne medication and so on) and it's not like I'm not grateful for my complexion. But any zit is a pain in the ass (er face). Lately I've been getting one huge zit on my chin. Then, as soon as that one is gone, I grow another one. Only one at a time. Red and angry. Personally, I blame all the holiday stress. Oh, and I blame the cold weather for chapping my lips which requires me to wear chapstick to bed which then gets on my chin which clogs pores and causes pimples. The worst part is that I can't stop picking at them. I peel off a layer of skin and then try to leave it alone, but the next day I'll be peeling off another layer. I think that the one zit is more obvious because it is all by itself. I smile, it smiles. I talk, it talks. Like a friend...that I hate.