remember that time i wrote a blog... and then forgot? cause i didn't...

right. blog. oops.

so yeah, i wrote a blog... posted a few things and then saw something shiny and crossed the street. fortunately my mother found me and now i'm back at it. blogging that is. not running across the street to chase shiny things. cause that would be dangerous.

anyway...

so i was in boston and now i'm not. that happened quite quickly. as a result of my quick "here to there to back to here again" trip, i have some advice... in no particular order because i'm blonde and that is WAY too complex for me:

* there are in fact wild turkeys in brookline, MA

* lead poisoning is bad for you

* some homes have lead lined paint

* (ok, i might be blonde, but if you can't figure out what the following point is, then you should try some artificial intelligence: like reading stephen hawking... or maybe just baby step through it and dye your hair brown... or dirty blonde...)

* boston ERs sometimes suck.

* ERs are meant to drive sane people insane

* ERs are very good at their jobs

* i am not currently living in a previously lead painted house

* i am not a zombie

***** are you really still reading? wow. ok. just for that i'll give you something that could be considered actual advice:

* if you are ever driving in MA, make sure you do not call or text on a smart phone. the police will bust you like an over inflated balloon. FACT.

Things of a terrifically disturbing or otherwise perplexing nature...

1. you can order "human centipede" on OnDemand. don't google it. don't check the trailer. just avoid it at all costs if you ever want to sleep soundly ever again.

no, but seriously. just don't. i know this makes you want to, because a faceless voice over the internet is telling you not to, but this isn't one of those times where "don't" means "you totally should!" this is a case where "don't" means "no really, don't do it. seriously."

again, don't. really. your future self on an alternate dimensional timeline thanks you. because they didn't listen and watched it and now they will never sleep ever again. but it's ok because they are comforted by the fact that the you in this reality listened.



...
that's it. it's number one out of one for a reason.

wild turkeys run amuck!

ok, so my least favorite question these past few months has been "so what job made you move to boston?" because the answer is "i have not yet found employment, and the reason for moving to boston is a long and personal story.

so

i've figured out a way of getting around this question that i loathe: i will now simply reply "because of the wild turkeys." and leave it at that.

factually, it is true: there are wild turkeys in brookline. and i think it will leave the questioner befuddled enough for me to have to answer anymore employment related questions.

done and done.

wild turkeys. fantastic.

exotic scented tampons are disorienting

no. that's it. no clever blog. just thought i'd say it because i do NOT like feeling geographically confused while i am in the midst of a flood, of sorts. they really should label those things more clearly. honestly. i can't tell if i'm in the tropics (why that would be comforting on any level is beyond me), or if i picked up the wrong box again. i'm looking at you tampax!

why does my TV have a DUI?

i think it's all too obvious at this point that i am not a huge fan of technology... unless it suits my needs.

well my mother is. a techno lover that is. she is not the unpredictable techno fan that i have become (yes, sometimes to recover from technology i have to sit in a corner and rock myself back and forth while clutching my typewriter.) i like my books to kill trees (although i do have a nook, largely to stay in touch with my mother since we're not in the same city), i like my phones to send and receive calls and texts, and my day planner is made of paper or sometimes my hand... no, not like sarah palin style, she stole the idea from me. let's get this straight now. i was spacey WAY before her.

anyway, my mom, being the technology lover that she is, wanted to get a super awesome new TV for the apartment. now, i like TV. i'm moderately addicted to it and would love to write for a show some day... but only if they bring back Murder She Wrote or anything joss whedon writes (yes i know he wasn't responsible for that one.) anyway, knowing that i love to escape into the world of TV shows (not reality) quite often when i'm sick or bored or really any excuse at all, she picked out a particularly shiny new TV... it's a sony, and you only need two remotes for it... which is pretty impressive in itself. however, in addition to having HD and lots of bells and whistles... it has wireless capabilities. yes, that means if you have a Netflix account, you can watch anything in your instant queue... well, instantly, on the small screen (which is still larger than my laptop.)

ok. so yes very cool. it also has a lot of other things/websites you can use with the exception of HULU, which is annoying. obviously someone decided that anyone who owns a TV would not want HULU so they made a deal with Netflix instead. that's far too confusing for this blogger.

point being: every time i turn my magical sony TV on, the box that usually blinks "12:00", now blinks "DUI" until it then changes to whatever channel you happen to be on.

now, i consider myself to be a fairly intelligent individual. i do, however, from time to time find myself having blonde moments. all i could think was "how on earth is my TV drunk and why/how is/was it driving?" ... did i mention i'm blonde? good. ok, so while "DUI" sometimes means "driving under the influence" it can also mean "downloading uploaded information." good to know. because i was all... wow, my sony has a serious problem. how does one have an intervention with one's television? i mean, it's clearly a cry for help when it's blinking DUI over and over again. if that isn't a 'HELP ME FORTHELOVEOFGOD" i don't know what is.

so yeah. my tv's sober. i think. but really sony, this particular choice in names ranks right on up there with the iPad. someone has been dropping the ball. i'm just saying.

i'm a beamer... no, not like the car

so apparently i "beam." while waiting for a meetup that i managed to have a blonde moment and mess up the time/day/week a number of things happened with one commonality: everyone said "sorry, you just beam!"

thing of the first: a girl with a large amount of free health-conscious dog treats lost control of her cart and dumped two very large boxes worth of said dog-treat onto the bustling area near the T entrances between park and tremont. i saw impending doom since it was quite hot and very sunny and sadly, her outfit for the day was black (as per their logo) and realized she had about a couple hundred small packages to put back into the two boxes amidst tourists and business people running about. so i went over to help her. after a lot of thanking and apologizing for no reason since the cobbled roads are "wicked hard" to navigate with a cart, she looked up and said "wow. sorry, you just sort of beam." i wasn't really sure how to respond to this so i said "thanks?" and she then she went about her day passing out scientifically proven health conscious dog-treats. sadly, duke is not in boston and likes crackers, not health-conscious treats.

thing of the second: a man in yellow aka a buddhist monk (i'm guessing converted since he was quite germanic in appearance) was handing out buddhist papers and, obviously, sought me out. i said i was already well acquainted with buddhism and the Bagadavita, but thanked him anyway and said "namaste". he was a little taken aback that i knew the term namaste, not quite sure why. then he replied "i'm sorry, you just have this wonderful smile. it's sort of like you're beaming." i thanked him and decided i needed some caffeine.

thing of the third: i walk into a Dunkin Donuts across the street to get some iced caffeine and sit in the wonderful air-conditioning (it was getting a bit hot in the sun.) i look for a seat and realize that there's not a lot of seating with the exception of a table with 4 seats currently occupied by one man. i asked him if he minded if i sat down. his response? "as long as you promise not to bother me." this was said with a smile. anyway, we sat and drank our respective caffeinated drinks together in silence, he was nearly done by the time i sat down so he stands up, walks over to me and says "you could have bothered me and i wouldn't have minded" with a wink and then leaves. huh. weird. less than a minute later another man comes along, dressed in a suit and with a very strong Nigerian accent says "can i sit here?" and i replied "sure, i just asked another guy the same thing. it's a big enough table." he then leans over and says "can i ask you two more questions?" i'm looking at his zippered folder, sizing him up for crazy or not, decided not crazy, and replied "sure." he says "you are very beautiful." i said "that is not a question, but thank you." he laughs and then asks "do you know that you beam? i mean, really, you are lighting up this room. how are you doing that? or why?" i was a little taken aback and said "i'm not sure i understand the question... just so i'm clear, you're asking me how and why i 'beam'?" and he says "yes." and i said "i don't know. i get that a lot. i'm a beamer i guess."

so there you have it. beaming 101. i have no idea what people are talking about, but apparently this pale sweaty blonde girl beams. i'm thinking it's sweat. or my smile. not quite sure how my smile beams. but there you have it. i'm a beamer.

A Life of Carefully Contained Chaos: CA : cleaners anonymous

A Life of Carefully Contained Chaos: CA : cleaners anonymous: "ok i have a problem. and i'm willing to admit it: i'm addicted to cleaning. there. i said it. ok, that's not really true. i like things to..."

CA : cleaners anonymous

ok
i have a problem.
and i'm willing to admit it: i'm addicted to cleaning.
there. i said it.

ok, that's not really true.

i like things to BE clean. i don't actually like cleaning them. BUT if the room is not clean or things are not put in their carefully organized place... my eye twitches and my brain starts to collapse and i'm pretty sure i develop some form of "sailor mouth syndrome".

i'm also a vegetarian who hates the smell of meat. my roommates love them some meat. enter problem here.

SO, i've decided i need to get into an engineering program and create a cleaning robot. but not an AI one because i don't want it to have feelings. i do however want it to get rid of crumbs, clean the bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, hallway and living room. oh yeah, and i want it to automatically deodorize the smell of meat.

it should also probably have ninja skills. you know. so it could be durable. not because i think anyone eating meat needs a ninja to bust a move on them... because violence is wrong. against animals of the non-human variety. humans? fair game.

that was out loud wasn't it?

ok, i also want my cleaning ninja robot to create a verbal filter for me.

and GO!

well i guess i need to work on my time and space device because i am most definitely not an engineer and i do not have a cleaning, verbal filtering ninja robot.

blast. foiled again.

never mix icelandic vodka with guys who play air guitar during karaoke...

no really, BAD combination.

so it was my roommate's birthday this past friday... yes the 13th. she was also born on a friday. some good luck for the world i think. and the fact that i'm a halloween baby... well really, we make a good team.

ok, so, i was a first time karaoke singer/participant. i think it's safe to say that while i can sing and hit the right notes... i am NOT, repeat NOT, a solo singer. i think the fact that i have a fear of public singing has something to do with that. only singing though. i have no problem with public speaking, comedy improv, acting, etc. it's just the singing bit. i'm pretty sure it's a different part of your brain. or i just made it up. definitely one of those.

anyway, if you happen to be like me, a HUGE ham who has large, ahem, "assets" and is blonde, to succeed at karaoke you need to do the following: smile a lot and look pretty and talk your way through the song. sadly, this ends with followers... big fans in fact who yell out "yo! hillary! you're hot!" how do you respond? well, if you have a mic and happen to be singing blind mellon's "no rain" then you make sure to ham it up on the lines about insanity. and then point with a smile to the older gentlemen... one in particular, "jimmy", and then play it off and make sure you are surrounded with many friends so there are no openings for crazies to get at you. also, flirting with the bouncer doesn't hurt. cause he was quite helpful.

jimmy, as he introduced himself to me, happens to be a big fan of the band Rush. i mean, who doesn't love them some rush? certainly not this lady. however, jimmy came over, tipped his very sweaty and very worn out Sox hat (in boston, i don't think i even really need to designate the team) and said "hi! i'm jimmy." i said "hi! i'm hillary." i was then saved by about 4 friends who quickly surrounded me. however, every 5 or 7 minutes jimmy would tip his hat and scream oh so very subtly "hi hillary!" one of his friends sang along to "foxy lady" ... yes, he was looking at me. was it awkward? absolutely. did i feel like i had a brute squad protecting me? damn skippy i did.

more importantly, we didn't have to pay for drinks because we got to the bar early and one of the new icelandic vodka reps was there to offer us free reyka vodka drinks AND super soft long sleeve hoodies. was it awesome? yup. were the drinks watered down? definitely. but since i'm a light weight, i'd say that's a good thing. did i mention the super soft long-sleeve hoodie? cause seriously, it's awesome. not sure about the reyka... i'm a beer girl myself.

one thing's for sure: jimmy is definitely not a fan of reyka vodka because he was there before us and did not get a free hoodie. i'm guessing the icelandic rep (which is basically a drug pusher only for alcohol...) was not a jimmy fan. she really missed out on some very sweet air guitar moves, jimmy style.

princesses vs. pirates THE FINAL BATTLE!!!

alright, so there's this thing they have at the grand floridian called "princess breakfast and princess dinner." basically, you dress your daughter up as one of her favorite princesses and then go to breakfast/dinner where various characters and princesses hang out and talk to you while you eat. or so i'm told.

now, here's my humble suggestion to the grand floridian's princess meal plan (ignoring the fact that it was princess only, what if they wanted to come dressed as a prince? and what about the boys? can they come as princesses?)

anyway, onto my suggestion:

have a princess dinner and a pirate boat ride.

have the pirates raid the princess dinner.

THEN include some "special" princesses who could clearly handle their own if pirates came to ruin their tea. it would probably go a little something like this:

Pirate: arrg! give me yer tiara or mrs. potts walks the plank! and don't be thinking ya can use the ole "parle" trick either. we saw "pirates of the caribbean" too there me lassies!

(enter jasmine with her tiger, belle with "the art of war", mulan, and princess tiana, sleeping beauty, and cinderella.)

(this is just a thought, but personally, i think tiana should lead the attack because she's clearly the sassiest and has the best mind for business and would, therefore, have the best leadership, multi-tasking, and coordinating skills, not too mention her ability to delegate tasks.)

Tiana: oh i KNOW you did not just come up into my restaurant with all that trash talking business. somebody hold my earrings because i'm about to cut a pirate!

Belle: no hold on guys, i'm reading up on this. i think the best approach is to know your opponent. let me get past this first chapter.

Mulan: Belle get your head out of that book! i was there when "the art of war" was written! honestly. let's just fight them!

Jasmine: um.. ladies, i have a tiger. i'm thinking tiger beats pirate any day of the week,

Tiana: Sleeping Beauty wake up! there are little princesses at risk and all you can do is sleep? get your head in the game and your lazy head off that pillow! where did you even find a pillow in this place?

Mulan: Cinderella, did you just flirt with that pirate? johnny depp was only in the movie! he's not a real pirate!!!

Tiana: oh no you did NOT just give him your shoe. you know what sit your princess fanny down while we handle this. come on ladies, Jasmine, it's time for some parrot stew with a side of pirate gumbo. release that tiger already!

so yeah, in the end... dude, tiger versus parrot/pirates with scurvy and most likely syphilis? sorry monty python, that parrot would not be sleeping... it'd be supper served with a tall glass of pirate shake.

now that's how princess dinners should go.


... oh dear. it seems i have left out two of my favorite "princesses"/ladies of disney: marry poppins and alice

so let's pretend the story continued...

Alice continually chants "curiouser and curiouser" as well as "but we're late... for a VERY important date!"

the rest of the princesses finally get fed up with this nonsense...

Tiana: Alice! darling we GOT it. we're late. have you happened to notice the PIRATES that are all up in MY business and MY restaurant? so either pick a drink that makes you small and pass it along to our pirate friends or eat some cake to make yourself large enough to stomp on this whole bunch of foolishness.

Mary Poppins, meanwhile, starts passing out spoons full of, well, you'll see, while singing to the tune of "a spoon full of sugar":

Mary Poppins: (singing) "a spoonful of arsenic helps the pirates go down... in the most expedient way." (with a charming and only slightly unsettling smile whilst she works.)

NOTE: i left out snow white because she encouraged indentured servitude and was NOT very PC... there are multiple forms of dwarfism which is not to be confused with little people which has become an empowering phrase. and Ariel was left out because honestly, pirates have ships, and fish versus pirate doesn't always end well. and she doesn't have a voice. what kind of message is that sending to our little princesses? that and zeus was far too misogynistic for this little fable. tale? blog. we'll go with blog.

never drink pumpkin juice before noon... it attracts jailbait

our last day at disney we did something that no one staying at a disney resort should ever say aloud. it has been said that mickey himself will find you, beat you with pluto's leash (has anyone every questioned why goofy can talk but pluto has to wear a leash... oh hey segregation and blatant references to slavery, what's up?)

that's right. we went to... universal studios.



ok. little sore. but it was worth it. mickey's not so bad as long as you don't mock his voice while he beats you. no really, it only makes him angrier. that is one mean little high pitched mouse.

anyway, universal studios recently opened the new harry potter ride that includes a romp through the castle. being a harry potter nerd, i don't think i can say without bias how incredible awesome it was... so i'll just say it with bias... IT WAS INCREDIBLY AWESOME. and yes i tried pumpkin juice. unfortunately, i tend towards the oblivious when it comes to people hitting on me. while my mother was off looking to see how long other rides were, i was approached by two young men, whom i thought were actually confused as to where the castle was located. side note: the castle is larger than the park and as such, is very hard to miss, while i am apparently not hard to miss, if you are a young male aka jailbait. fortunately, i was saved by my mother who, once the jailbait left, said "really, you didn't get that? honestly, hillary. breasts, tattoos and blonde hair make boys stupid." duly noted mother.

next we went on the jurassic park ride. it had a warning which read "may get wet." i thought the emphasis was on the "may" and not the "wet" part. the "splash zone" probably should have been a clue... also, the many people wearing rain ponchos should have given me a bit of an inkling. so yeah, "might" should have been "did you pack extra clothes/do not wear white on this ride unless you are entering a wet tshirt contest afterwards.

sadly, there were no wet tshirt contests to enter. so we headed to the hard rock cafe instead. which is about as close as you can get.

at some point i lost one of my favorite rings. this was sad.

we went on the "revenge of the mummy ride" which, again, was awesome despite my bias.

and then, after being soaked, sweaty, and smelling faintly of pumpkin juice, we headed back to the hotel and who should we happen upon but the character who was singing a few days earlier? what a crazy happenstance! (we waited for her the day before for 3 hours with no luck which simply goes to show, magical days simply happen and cannot be planned... other than THE book. you follow that. seriously.)

after listening to her sing a medley of my favorite disney songs, including "almost there" she came over to me and said "i'm sorry, i just had to tell you that you have such a beautiful smile." which made my day and she was more than happy to take a picture with me... despite the smell of sweat and pumpkin juice.

ok, so this princess was awesome. well, she was dressed as a victorian lady, but awesome nonetheless.

found my ring. it was not lost. i just hadn't put it on that day. shocking.

so basically, the last day was, in a word, perfection.
it
was
perfect.

(seriously though, if you are over 18... stay away from pumpkin juice. it attracts jailbait.)

Disney's Hollywood Studios (aka MGM) / mickey will cut you

since my last visit to disney, apparently they have renamed MGM to "Disney's Hollywood Studios" ... or "DHS". this makes me feel old because i hear "DHS" and i think of "VHS" and how many i still have that, as hard as i try, refuse to go into the DVD slot. there should be a magical converter that i don't have to pay money for. i'm just sayin'. fortunately i didn't have many cassette tapes, otherwise getting music onto my iPod would have been a real issue. comical? probably. painfully awkward? um, all signs point to heck yes.

so, rule one of DHS: wait behind the line until the park opens.

rule two of DHS: wait behind the line until the park opens.

rule three of DHS: wait behind the line until the park opens or mickey will cut you.

rule four of DHS: don't talk about the rules of DHS.

entering the park when it opened was not unlike the running of the bulls in spain... only with more animals and blood, and less courtesy.

the tower of terror was a good time. especially when the cute tower of terror girl is willing to take a picture with you. yes, yes i am a shameless flirt. and no, my mother did not get why i needed a picture with the girl until i said "mom, because she's hot." my mom's response? a very audible sigh with even more audible eye rolling.

the rocking rollercoaster featuring aerosmith was also incredible. until i heard that the music may be replaced with the jonas brothers. i will cut someone if this happens. no. i am not kicking. i will throw down. philly style. well, quaker philly style. but it will involve a "philly what?!?!" which i think will convey my ability to sorry anyone into next week...

aug 4th, epcot, anthropology, and real magic

day three: epcot

so as an anthropology major it is sometimes very difficult to function in places like disney and it's various parks. partly because of walt (who came up with disneyland as a result of his father working on the great white city during chicago's world fair... during which america found it's first serial killer in H.H. Holmes... coincidence? definitely. was walt racist and a bit of a nazi? um, yeah. is it hilarious that they have a gay pride parade at disney world ? why yes it is as hilarious as it is AWESOME... incidentally. how in the world did i not know that the absurdity of prop 8 was overruled while i was at disney? there should have been a parade! jane lynch... this is totally on you, sneaky gays. see what happens when you use your power for hilarious evil instead of good? neil patrick harris, pretty sure you're to blame in some part as well. and the entire cast of glee. someone needed to bust open the bubble of disney for this kind of amazing news! dropping the ball people. seriously.

anyway, epcot was very hot and while "soaring" was incredible, spaceship earth did not mention tesla or the fact that the greeks and the catholic church ruined western mathematics by not accepting zero as a number. honestly. edison was an royal jack-in-the-box.

so while i enjoyed the history of dead white men... i guess that's not really that far off since history is a story generally told by the people running the game. so, fine, epcot, well played. well played indeed.

at this point, i was really not thrilled about having anthropological knowledge in my head... please leave so i can enjoy this experience. then was attacked by a small child with sticky fingers that were (hopefully) covered in chocolate.

SERIOUSLY questioning why i have ovaries. they are wasting both our time at this point.

fortunately, the magic of disney was returned when we got back to the hotel to have "high tea"... no really, they actually served it. and we sat next to a magical woman with an incredible story i hope to see either in a book or online at some point soon. she was welsh who recently moved to florida to be near her children. she stopped by the grand floridian to have a spot of tea because she was having a good day. did i mention she recently had chemo and is a breast cancer survivor with the brightest and warmest smile you could ever imagine. i helped her with her bucket list by adding "blogging" to it. i told her that her username should be "awesome lady 007" i'm hoping to see it. so keep your eyes out.

consequently rediscovered magic, childhood, strength and beauty all while having high tea and listening to a character sing "almost there" from the princess and the frog in the background. pretty much perfect right there.

No Humidity Left Behind!

no but seriously... none was left behind.

oh hey, i got an idea! let's take the kid who passes out in heat and humidity to florida during an extreme heat wave where normal humidity levels are considered anywhere between 89 and 100%... good call hill. dumbass. in all honesty, this is the type of humidity that could make a steel character's hair in tomorrowland frizz.

so apparently, paper blogging is SO 2003, or something.

so here are some fun notes on disney vacation day 2: the magic kingdom (again.)

where have all the princesses gone? the hardcore ones anyway. sure it was 98 degrees and 87% humidity... but really? suck it up princesses. the characters, as in the fuzzy ones, were all up in our business. and don't even get me started on the princes. more importantly, where was princess tiana and the frog? frogs are common in florida i thought. aren't they into the whole "swamp" thing?

anyway, despite the utter lack of princesses and princes, the magic kingdom retained it's magical status: we followed the book and managed to get on all the great rides... minus "it's a small world" which really was a good thing, because the jingle gets stuck in your head and i'm fairly certain sends subliminal messages in an attempt to engender homicidal tendencies. this probably helps crowd control as well. you know, by killing off a number of tourists, locking up a number of other tourists for murder (mitigating circumstances of insanity, obviously), leaving the rest of us who were smart enough to avoid the sociology experiment to enjoy the magic kingdom. pretty good crowd control i think, actually.

wait a minute, figured out the lack of disney royalty: humidity + hair and makeup = sweaty frizzy unattractiveness. ok. vanity and royalty. makes sense. question as to where the princesses and princes were solved: in the disney spa getting pretty for a ball... somewhere.

incidentally, i found my previously drop-kicked biological clock while in line for "peter pan's flight" when a little girl said she wanted to ride it because she loved the story (literary inclined youth are cute.)

then overheard same child beg to have the princess makeover (which, incidentally, you can have done to your child for $200, no i am not making this up and yes they do become monsters as a result.)

... consequently drop-kicked biological clock... again.

aug 2nd disney trip... day one

having been to disney world many times with my mother and family in general, i have learned one thing: FOLLOW THE BOOK!

"what book?" you may ask.

is it the bible, the koran, something by bill bryson? nope. none of the above.

the aforementioned book is "The Unofficial Guide to Disney."

i have also learned a second thing: NEVER QUESTION THE BOOK!

my mom has no problem rolling with the punches... unless those punches involves disney. then the only punches involved are the ones that will follow if you question THE book.

i can say with unabashed shame that i am a devout follower of the book, since age 9.

it tells you how to maximize your time while minimizing your wait time. basically: it's genius... as long as you actually follow it.

enter problem here...

normally, we plan our vacation time before we get there including which parks at what time on which day. excessive? yes. brilliant? absolutely.

day one: arrive in orlando.

previous plan (in strict accordance to THE book): sit by pool, unpack, eat dinner, drink (not necessarily in that order.)

actual plan: unpacked, hopped on the monorail (seriously, why hasn't the rest of the country caught on to the idea of sky rails? no seattle, i wasn't talking to you... diva.) anyway, i decided i needed my dose of pirates.

WARNING: DEVIATION OF PLAN!!!

so mom, allowing impending doom in order to placate her insane 25 year old daughter, agreed to go at a time when THE book told the reader "bad idea. seriously."

while in line for the ride... we realized we were packed between an indian family of 5 aft side and a brit family of 4 bow side.

it took a good amoung of self-restraint to refrain from using an eddie izzard joke... but i did.

in conclusion: after watching small children attempting to climb through bars to get INTO faux 17th/18th century prisons, running in a continual horizontal pattern between the prison-chic walls like a ping pong ball on crack, culminating with an attempt to scale the walls that were labeled with signs (and common sense) that read "please keep children close and refrain from touching/walking on displays and walls" ... and then remembering i was TOTALLY that kid... i am quite certain i am NEVER having children. EVER.

basically, i drop-kicked my biological clock in the pirate waters of adventure land.

sorry for the delay

so i have been doing this new crazy thing called "paper blogging."

yes that means writing things down on paper.

now my mother is on my case... so let the blogging... on the blog... begin!

i don't trust anything that can bleed for 7 days without dying...

yeah, i don't either. especially when it's 14 days of bleeding without dying.

dear body,

this situation is not working for me. i expect to be payed overtime. i accept checks. just make it out to me for services of being "freaking awesome."

seriously though, 2 weeks? in case you were testing anemic levels... they're totally normal.

better luck next time sucka!

ok but really. this whole bleeding thing, not cool. not cool at all.

fix it. or i will be forced to call in the troops. who are theses aforementioned "troops" you may ask? let's just say i've been reading up on "the art of war." should you be afraid? yup. should i be concerned that i'm detaching myself from my body? probably. will i bring it on hard core anyway? absolutely. does that make me awesome? i think so.

sincerely,

your mind

(you know, that part of you that controls stuff? yeah, that part.)

it is 4:12am eastern standard time... and i am awake

i am convinced that my sleep is dependent on my brain shutting up.

apparently today/yesterday, my brain is running quite an impressive monologue.

really?!? really, brain? NOW is the time you wish to be active?

you refuse to be active when i am calculating, job searching, attempting to be productive, or generally attempting to be a productive member of society.

note to self: work night shifts.

second note to self: terrible idea. night shifts are for doctors, retailers, truckers, and various other things that i should not be doing

really self?

third note to self: stop listening to your notes to self. you give yourself terrible advice... wait, that was a note... can it be trusted?

can one be a vampire for hire without being aggressively misogynistic, mormon, or consuming human blood? cause i think i could do that.

i'm packing and heading to disneyworld on monday. perhaps the cute ad with the little kids, specifically the little boy saying in a tone that could be compared to that of a fog horn in it's intonations: "but we're too excited to SLEEP."

duke

sometimes you just have to love dogs.

duke is our golden retriever

i like trains and OCD passengers

i've decided that i am very much in favor of trains.
you meet the most interesting people on them...
and by "interesting" i clearly mean "crazy."

which generally leads to great stories.

for example:

a few months ago i was on a train with an empty seat next to me

(i now understand an empty seat next to a young, blonde and smiley female leads to disaster... and hilarity which means a great story so i make sure there is always a seat next to me.)

as i'm happily sitting on the train, minding my own business and watching with awe as the train passes through various vegetation and bodies of water that i can't name because i have no sense of geography whatsoever, a very frail and fastidious male sits down next to me.

as someone with moderate (read: SEVERE) OCD, i recognize the symptoms in my new train partner as he carefully reaches into a very neat and organized briefcase and pulls out three cellophane wrapped parcels. i'm trying to be subtle in my observation which probably meant i was blatantly looking over at him with complete lack of shame and decorum.

fragile and carefully practiced hands begin unwrapping the three cellophane objects, which have been set in a line like tiny little edible soldiers. (NOTE: this site does not by any means condone cannibalism.) he goes from left to right revealing 1) a sandwich cut neatly into (what seem to be) 4 equilateral triangles; 2) a bevy of baby carrots (again, no cannibalism condoning); and 3) a clementine. he then starts to clean the clementine with disposable cleansing wipe, which he whips out of his pocket with all the gusto of a seasoned magician/snake-oil salesman.

this entire time i am doing my best to not laugh, but i really have little control over my face which is laughing quite loudly in my smile. as i attempt to contain my amusement and pretend to read my book he continues to pull out three dark chocolate hershey's kisses... again lining them up all in a row under the previous line of cellophane. clearly this main knows how to maintain aesthetic integrity while on a public train since the deep purple wrappers complement the clementines perfectly.

he then takes a quick look over at me, looking a bit like a bird in his swift angular movement, picks up one of the three purple kisses, and just as swiftly as a pick pocket, puts one in my open jacket pocket with a quick wink.

my first thought: SERIAL KILLER! clearly he has poisoned the kisses and has set a careful trap with all of his pretty OCD edible soldiers. and then i saw that he was waiting for me to eat it. i smiled. waiting for him to eat one first. he winked. and with the most brilliant alacrity, opened one of the 2 remaining deep purple kisses of (presumed) death, popped one in his mouth.

then i realized that statistically, it would be unlikely that i would be sitting next to a serial killer on a train. so, in an attempt to pretend i wasn't waiting for him to go first, i smiled, ate one, laughed out loud and thanked the marry poppins/mr. monk/possible serial killer and went back to my book.

he winked again and went back to pulling things out of his brief case, this time of the non-edible paper work variety, and organizing them accordingly. after he finished that he leaned over a bit, and said out of the corner of his mouth "i always bring along an extra chocolate in case i sit next to a girl with a beautiful smile." i smiled and thanked him as he winked again.

it took all of my self-restraint to NOT say "usually i bring along a small dose of arsenic in case i sit next to a man with a large carbon footprint." or something of the like. fortunately, my usually disabled verbal filter was working. so i simply smiled, thanked him, and got off at my stop.

I miss my type writer

i was told on the train the other day that i should get rid of my typewriter.

clearly, that is not going to happen.

my typewriter is portable... like a laptop.

however, unlike my laptop (yes i do have one... hence why you can read this blog)

my typewriter only crashes if i am holding it and walk into a tree (sadly, this has happened... more than once.)

fine. so i will accept this world of blogging... which is now apparently only a word, on one condition: i am allowed to keep my typewriter.

alright. welcome to my own world of carefully contained chaos. enjoy your stay. please clean up after yourself.