It's raining AGAIN today. It's rained so much this summer that it's gotten to the point where I constantly feel rainy - meaning that I dress like it's going to rain, I act like it's going to rain, I plan my work out like it's going to rain, I never leave the house without an umbrella, and I always feel like staying in and reading or watching a movie with some popcorn are good ways to spend an evening. (Also remember I have limited choices because my fiancee is studying for the bar...countdown: 6.5 days). Don't take this to mean I'm a constant downer, because that's not it. It's just that I've adapted to all the rain. I walk outside and it's just a reflex to want to take cover. I even feel weird when it's sunny. This must be like what people in Mobile, Alabama (the rainiest place in the US with 67 inches on average per year - yeah, apparently, Seattle's not even in the top 10 in terms of amount of rain per year) or Bergen, Norway (where it rains 2 out of every 3 days) or Tutunendo, Colombia (464 inches of rain on average per year - are you KIDDING me?) feel like all the time. Huh.
On a totally different note, today could also be called "Frosty Paws Friday" because Sparki's 15th birthday is coming up and we just got him a pack of Frosty Paws- the peanut butter kind, because he loves peanut butter. It's the perfect treat for him because he's losing his teeth and isn't allowed anything really difficult to chew these days (like rawhide or anything like that). So, bless his little heart, he'll celebrate his old age with a half melted "ice cream like" treat on Sunday. And maybe a birthday hat. And a little extra glucosamin and chondroitin for that bad hip and arthritic front paw and old ACL injury (you think I'm kidding...). What a champ he is!
Showing posts with label Friday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friday. Show all posts
Friday, July 24, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
campFire Friday
Ok, so it's not so much a camp fire. It's one of those little portable grill guys. (Alliteration couldn't be found in my brain tonight). But tonight we're having a little s'mores action! It's a nice summer evening, and around 9, we'll be grillin' up some mallows. Yum! I recommend you do the same.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Free! Friday
Should you find yourself in the Boston area this summer and fall, here are a couple of free things (free= money saving!) to check out (the list focuses on stuff you'd normally have to pay for and also stuff that you might not be aware of):
- Like movies? Free Friday Flicks (they copied my alliteration idea...jerks) every Friday night (now through August) at the Hatch Shell. Shown at sundown in good weather, click here for schedule.
- Like Italian stuff/ the North End? Check out the Boston North End Italian Feasts (summer feasts, festivals, parades, etc., often complete with marching bands) now through August
- Like the night sky? Visit the Coit Observatory at BU: Wednesdays after 8:30pm = free stargazing (times differ by season)
- Like (or like to dislike) Shakespeare/ like to laugh? The complete works of William Shakespeare (abridged) to be presented OUTDOORS AT CHRISTIAN HERTER PARK (Home of The Publick Theatre) 1175A Soldiers Field Road, Brighton, MA. I can't wait to see it - apparently, it's real funny! Also, you can bring your own food to cook out! Now through August.
- Like lunch? Every Wednesday, restaurants in Quincy Market with the "Taste of Quincy Market" sign offer samples as a part of their International Food Festival.
- Like music and free samples? The WBOS Summer Concerts at Copley run on Thursdays from July 12 to August 16. Shows are free and begin at 5:30pm in front of historic Trinity Church in Copley Square Park. The August 16th one looks good: Jonatha Brooke and Matt Nathanson!
- Like the Temptations and/or the Beach Boys? Oldies 103.3 has a free concert series at the hatch shell featuring those two bands. I think it's just July.
- Like boats and free samples? Head of the Charles Regatta October 17th and 18th on the banks of the Charles. There's tons of vendors there, too, giving out free stuff.
- Like arts? The Boston Arts Festival is Sept 11-13 noon to 6 at Christopher Columbus Park
- Like wine? Best Cellars (745 Boylston St.) has free weeknight tastings from 5 to 8 p.m and on weekends 2 to 5 p.m. Oh and the Wine Gallery (375 Boylston St. in Brookline or 516 Comm Ave in Boston, or the one in Dedham) always has that cool tasting jukebox. Sometimes there's tasting events and stuff - check their website.
- Like beer? There's always the free tastings and tours at the Samuel Adams Brewery in JP and at the Harpoon Brewery on Northern Ave in Boston.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Foggy Friday
I woke up a little late today - 11:30 to be exact. I haven't done that since...well, last week, but before that, I hadn't done that since summers off from college. At first I thought, maybe it's raining AGAIN today and it was just a good day to sleep. I put my glasses on and looked out the window: Sun. Then I became very confused because today was my day to walk the dogs. They usually get up at 8ish - had I gotten up at 8ish and walked them? I didn't really remember that. I closed my eyes and listened for 8 paws shuffling around, and that was what I heard. I MUST have gotten up at 8ish, then, because Emma was out of her crate. Unless I forgot to lock her crate last night. I went over last night in my head and remembered locking her crate.
"Huh," I said. "Did you take the dogs out this morning?" I asked Jess from bed.
"No, you did," she said from the kitchen.
Huh, I said to myself. And then I reached for my glasses on the nightstand. I was bewildered when I saw that they weren't there -- and then amazed that I could see everything clearly! Oh, my glasses are already on my face.
And then I knew -- today was going to be a foggy Friday.
This became even clearer to me when my throat and nasal passages all together shouted "WE HATE ALLERGY SEASON!" and revolted. It's one thing to be sick in winter or when the weather is crappy in the summer. But when it's our first sunny day this summer (besides Pride) and tomorrow is the 4th of July, I mean that's just not fair.
Maybe I should have stayed in bed. I feel a case of the Debbie Downers coming on.
"Huh," I said. "Did you take the dogs out this morning?" I asked Jess from bed.
"No, you did," she said from the kitchen.
Huh, I said to myself. And then I reached for my glasses on the nightstand. I was bewildered when I saw that they weren't there -- and then amazed that I could see everything clearly! Oh, my glasses are already on my face.
And then I knew -- today was going to be a foggy Friday.
This became even clearer to me when my throat and nasal passages all together shouted "WE HATE ALLERGY SEASON!" and revolted. It's one thing to be sick in winter or when the weather is crappy in the summer. But when it's our first sunny day this summer (besides Pride) and tomorrow is the 4th of July, I mean that's just not fair.
Maybe I should have stayed in bed. I feel a case of the Debbie Downers coming on.
Friday, June 26, 2009
"For the honeymoon" Friday
So, as it turns out, Argentina is only a finalist -- and we're still collecting honeymoon ideas! We want to decide soon, so any recommendations you might have would be appreciated! Also, if you have been to one of the places we're considering, let us know what you thought!
Where we're thinking:
Where we're thinking:
- Hawaii
- San Francisco/Napa & Sonoma valleys
- Arizona
- New Mexico
- Europe - we'll definitely go some day, but right now it's too $
- Aruba - or anything else that might be too resorty-- we want some sort of culture and history and stuff to do, too, and this might be too similar to our recent trip to Isla Mujeres, Mexico
- stuff in the Caribbean, Keys, or other hurricane season locations
- non-gay-friendly places
Friday, June 19, 2009
Fed-Up Friday: Ever have days where your ovaries just shrivel up?
Yesterday was one of those days.
Ovary destroyer #1: I was walking my dogs at the park and there were kids there (from say, 8 to 11, mostly boys) setting up for their little league game. Two of them walked up to us and started barking at my dogs, who were, for once in their lives, not doing anything wrong. Of course, they started barking, and the little kids laughed and ran away. All I could say was "real nice" in a kind of sarcastic way, which only made them laugh harder. My ovaries, seeing how children can be, decided no, no, we don't want any of that, thank you, and retreated from the scene.
Ovary destroyer #2: Jess and I went running in the Southwest Corridor, where there are two separate paths for walking and biking. There is pretty clear signage (pictures and everything), and generally people follow the rules. We were in the most narrow part of the corridor and saw a gaggle of 12 year old girls approach the path on their bikes. They chose the running path. They didn't even stay to one side or try to get out of our way, so we stepped off the path and onto the grass. As they passed, Jess said, "There's a separate biking path on the other side." Just pointing it out. Not snotty in the slightest. And one of the girls looked over her shoulder as they passed us and said, "shut up." Again, all I could do was retort, "real nice" sarcastically. My mother would have slapped off my face, baked it into a homemade cookie, and served it to the adult I had disrespected if she ever caught me acting like that! After that, my ovaries were silent with disgust as they shriveled and shrank to a size so small, I couldn't even find them with a magnifying glass.
I shared this story with my mom, who works as a teacher's aid. She shared in my distaste that "these young people today are just so disrespectful!" We hung up. I sat back and replayed the day in my head. That's when I realized that not only had my ovaries gone on strike, but I had celebrated my 90th birthday as well.
Ovary destroyer #1: I was walking my dogs at the park and there were kids there (from say, 8 to 11, mostly boys) setting up for their little league game. Two of them walked up to us and started barking at my dogs, who were, for once in their lives, not doing anything wrong. Of course, they started barking, and the little kids laughed and ran away. All I could say was "real nice" in a kind of sarcastic way, which only made them laugh harder. My ovaries, seeing how children can be, decided no, no, we don't want any of that, thank you, and retreated from the scene.
Ovary destroyer #2: Jess and I went running in the Southwest Corridor, where there are two separate paths for walking and biking. There is pretty clear signage (pictures and everything), and generally people follow the rules. We were in the most narrow part of the corridor and saw a gaggle of 12 year old girls approach the path on their bikes. They chose the running path. They didn't even stay to one side or try to get out of our way, so we stepped off the path and onto the grass. As they passed, Jess said, "There's a separate biking path on the other side." Just pointing it out. Not snotty in the slightest. And one of the girls looked over her shoulder as they passed us and said, "shut up." Again, all I could do was retort, "real nice" sarcastically. My mother would have slapped off my face, baked it into a homemade cookie, and served it to the adult I had disrespected if she ever caught me acting like that! After that, my ovaries were silent with disgust as they shriveled and shrank to a size so small, I couldn't even find them with a magnifying glass.
I shared this story with my mom, who works as a teacher's aid. She shared in my distaste that "these young people today are just so disrespectful!" We hung up. I sat back and replayed the day in my head. That's when I realized that not only had my ovaries gone on strike, but I had celebrated my 90th birthday as well.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Fabulous Friday
It's finally Friday, and the Boston pride festivities start tomorrow! Well, they probably started last night (or a week ago), for some of the younger, springier chickens, but for me they start tomorrow! I can't wait to go see the parade, have my annual street sausage (ok, who are we kidding, it's one of many street sausages I have in a year), and dance with friends. It's great to have a day to celebrate and to be proud to be the person I am. Every day should be like that. Not in a self-centered, "I'm incredibly awesome" kind of way; that's not what I mean. I mean, I wish more people were happier about who they are. I think if more people led more examined lives and really understood and liked themselves, the world would be a better place.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Fantastic "Total Eclipse" Friday
This should make your day (if it doesn't, you might be missing a funny bone or two).
First, watch the real video, because it's just weird as it is. Thank you, Bonnie Tyler.
Then, my friend, watch the literal video. Thank you Traci, for pointing this out, and thank you whoever thought this up. The unemployed clearly have the power to overwhelm people with their ideas and creativity. I guarantee you whoever came up with this was unemployed at the time, and I salute them.
First, watch the real video, because it's just weird as it is. Thank you, Bonnie Tyler.
Then, my friend, watch the literal video. Thank you Traci, for pointing this out, and thank you whoever thought this up. The unemployed clearly have the power to overwhelm people with their ideas and creativity. I guarantee you whoever came up with this was unemployed at the time, and I salute them.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Fact-Finding Friday
I miss doing research.
THERE, I said it.
So today, my friends, is Fact-Finding Friday: Send me anything you want me to know about, and I will have a post dedicated to it next week. Really! I'll do the research for you! It's quite the win-win, if you ask me.
And you can ask me about anything - tell me about Egyptian mummies, why does a rainbow appear when it's raining, what is the history of the infield fly rule, where does the saying "raining cats and dogs" came from, when is the next shark week, what is the circle of 5ths, why do other languages have gendered words, what celebrities share my birthday, how do I make a cake, what kind of hybrid car should I buy -- anything you want!
Just comment to let me know what you want to know -- complete this sentence: "Hey Pam, I want to know more about--"
THERE, I said it.
So today, my friends, is Fact-Finding Friday: Send me anything you want me to know about, and I will have a post dedicated to it next week. Really! I'll do the research for you! It's quite the win-win, if you ask me.
And you can ask me about anything - tell me about Egyptian mummies, why does a rainbow appear when it's raining, what is the history of the infield fly rule, where does the saying "raining cats and dogs" came from, when is the next shark week, what is the circle of 5ths, why do other languages have gendered words, what celebrities share my birthday, how do I make a cake, what kind of hybrid car should I buy -- anything you want!
Just comment to let me know what you want to know -- complete this sentence: "Hey Pam, I want to know more about--"
Friday, May 15, 2009
Fancy Friday
Being unemployed, I have stretched out the space between my haircuts to an unreasonable length. I still refuse to cut my own hair, so this is the best way I can think of to save money in this arena (even if I do end up looking a little like a monkey towards the end there...). So, I got my haircut yesterday (in the middle of the day, as usual since being laid off), and I'm feeling rather fancy. I know, it's just a haircut. But I feel fancy! It could be just the haircut - I no longer look sloppy. Or maybe it's because I had to wear "leaving the house" clothes (and not pajamas or work out clothes) for the first time in a while. Or maybe it's because of what I did when I got home from my haircut yesterday (and am about to do again after I finish writing this post!)...
I ventured into the kitchen for a fancy snack, but didn't know what to make. I just knew it had to be up to my standards of fancy. My eyes rested on the dwindling fruit bowl: bananas. Naked fruit could be fancy, but I didn't want just naked fruit. I opened the fridge and found our peanut butter and whipped cream, among some un-fancy odds and ends (sour cream, salsa, basil, yogurt, sub sauce). I could spread the peanut butter on the banana, then add whipped cream! I liked this idea, but still felt that it was a commoner's snack. I needed something fancier and more dessert-ish. I looked into my pantry options and saw that we were well-stocked with oats, dried cranberries, and light bulbs. None of this sounded fancy. In addition, these things did not add to my standing list of two potentially fancy ingredients. But then I took a gander into our little bin of goodies and found some Oreos. Hmmm....
Caution: What happened next might make you smack yourself in the face and say, "Why didn't I think of that!?"
I completely peeled off one strip of the banana so that about half of it was naked. Then, I spread on some peanut butter. I put some Oreos in a plastic bag and mashed them up until they were of good topping consistency. Then I poured them onto my PB-banana and added a generous helping of whipped cream.
"I am so fancy!" I exclaimed after each delicious bite. It was a day-changer.
I ventured into the kitchen for a fancy snack, but didn't know what to make. I just knew it had to be up to my standards of fancy. My eyes rested on the dwindling fruit bowl: bananas. Naked fruit could be fancy, but I didn't want just naked fruit. I opened the fridge and found our peanut butter and whipped cream, among some un-fancy odds and ends (sour cream, salsa, basil, yogurt, sub sauce). I could spread the peanut butter on the banana, then add whipped cream! I liked this idea, but still felt that it was a commoner's snack. I needed something fancier and more dessert-ish. I looked into my pantry options and saw that we were well-stocked with oats, dried cranberries, and light bulbs. None of this sounded fancy. In addition, these things did not add to my standing list of two potentially fancy ingredients. But then I took a gander into our little bin of goodies and found some Oreos. Hmmm....
Caution: What happened next might make you smack yourself in the face and say, "Why didn't I think of that!?"
I completely peeled off one strip of the banana so that about half of it was naked. Then, I spread on some peanut butter. I put some Oreos in a plastic bag and mashed them up until they were of good topping consistency. Then I poured them onto my PB-banana and added a generous helping of whipped cream.
"I am so fancy!" I exclaimed after each delicious bite. It was a day-changer.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Female Fertility Drug Friday
Sorry to get all baseball on you, but this is one got me thinking.
Manny Ramirez, left fielder for the Dodgers, was banned 50 games for his use of a performance-enhancing drug.
And now for the million dollar question: What was the drug? Go!
Me: Yes- guy in the front.
Guy in the front: Was it some kind of 'roid?
Me: Oh no, that would be predictable. You there, in the back.
Lady in the back: Was it some kind of growth hormone? Like, for apes or something? Because some of these men are really apes...
Me: What? No! Jane Goodall? How did you get in here?
Look, I don't know why I'm having you guess - it's almost as ridiculous as having you guess what my middle name is - you'll never get it (unless you already know, which at this point you probably do -- about the drug, not my middle name). It was a female fertility drug, human chorionic gonadotropin (hCG), used to treat polycystic ovarian syndrome and to facilitate ovulation.
Is Manny not a Manny?
I read on. Apparently, it is also typically used by steroid users to restart their body's natural testosterone production as they come off a steroid cycle.
Ohhhh.
He says he was using it for an undisclosed medical condition, and the media frenzy continues.
The point is it's people like Manny who have ruined it for the rest of us. Manny was probably the type of kid who, because he was jumping up and down and not sitting still, spilled his chocolate ice cream all over the new beige couch. Right after his parents took the plastic off, too. After that, Manny and friends were no longer allowed to eat their ice cream on the couch and had to eat it on the floor. They tried desperately to keep it away from the family dog, but spilled it all over themselves in the process. One of them probably looked at Manny with disgust and said, "see Manny, you ruined it for the rest of us!" A fist fight broke out and everyone beat Manny up. As he walked away from his former friends, ice cream-less and with a black eye, it was the first time Manny considered using performance-enhancing drugs. It was not the last.
I don't think the rest of us, however, would trade places with Manny Ramirez. Sure, you'd have a lot of money (I mean a LOT). If you're into bad press and bad hair, you'd be in luck to be Mr. MR (still talking about Manny Ramirez here, not Mr Mister). But what wouldn't you have? Self-respect and pride, sure. The ability to say you didn't cheat, definitely. But, most importantly, your primary concern would be how to spend the money you earned by cheating and NOT what do I do with my old business cards or what can I do with these corduroy pants. You wouldn't be able to make lemons out of lemonade because you would be too busy being the lemon.
Manny Ramirez, left fielder for the Dodgers, was banned 50 games for his use of a performance-enhancing drug.
And now for the million dollar question: What was the drug? Go!
Me: Yes- guy in the front.
Guy in the front: Was it some kind of 'roid?
Me: Oh no, that would be predictable. You there, in the back.
Lady in the back: Was it some kind of growth hormone? Like, for apes or something? Because some of these men are really apes...
Me: What? No! Jane Goodall? How did you get in here?
Look, I don't know why I'm having you guess - it's almost as ridiculous as having you guess what my middle name is - you'll never get it (unless you already know, which at this point you probably do -- about the drug, not my middle name). It was a female fertility drug, human chorionic gonadotropin (hCG), used to treat polycystic ovarian syndrome and to facilitate ovulation.
Is Manny not a Manny?
I read on. Apparently, it is also typically used by steroid users to restart their body's natural testosterone production as they come off a steroid cycle.
Ohhhh.
He says he was using it for an undisclosed medical condition, and the media frenzy continues.
The point is it's people like Manny who have ruined it for the rest of us. Manny was probably the type of kid who, because he was jumping up and down and not sitting still, spilled his chocolate ice cream all over the new beige couch. Right after his parents took the plastic off, too. After that, Manny and friends were no longer allowed to eat their ice cream on the couch and had to eat it on the floor. They tried desperately to keep it away from the family dog, but spilled it all over themselves in the process. One of them probably looked at Manny with disgust and said, "see Manny, you ruined it for the rest of us!" A fist fight broke out and everyone beat Manny up. As he walked away from his former friends, ice cream-less and with a black eye, it was the first time Manny considered using performance-enhancing drugs. It was not the last.
I don't think the rest of us, however, would trade places with Manny Ramirez. Sure, you'd have a lot of money (I mean a LOT). If you're into bad press and bad hair, you'd be in luck to be Mr. MR (still talking about Manny Ramirez here, not Mr Mister). But what wouldn't you have? Self-respect and pride, sure. The ability to say you didn't cheat, definitely. But, most importantly, your primary concern would be how to spend the money you earned by cheating and NOT what do I do with my old business cards or what can I do with these corduroy pants. You wouldn't be able to make lemons out of lemonade because you would be too busy being the lemon.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Fans Friday
I just want you to know I wasn't going to post today.
I was going to skip Friday all together, actually; you know, just sleep right through it. Wake up and *bam* it's Saturday! Time to make eggs in a frame and take the dogs for a walk to the pond! But then there was barking from the floor above us at 7 this morning and our dogs woke up and started barking. It was my day to walk them (every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and every other Sunday!), so I got up. There went my idea to skip Friday.
Case of the Nasties still raging like some sort of bad seafood allergy, I decided not to post. I figured it would be best for our relationship. But then, Reader, everything changed: I found out that I have fans.
Fans! And they're real live other people! They might have read more of this blog than my mom. So this Friday is Fans Friday. To you, Fans! (You couldn't see it just now, but I poured one out).
I was going to skip Friday all together, actually; you know, just sleep right through it. Wake up and *bam* it's Saturday! Time to make eggs in a frame and take the dogs for a walk to the pond! But then there was barking from the floor above us at 7 this morning and our dogs woke up and started barking. It was my day to walk them (every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and every other Sunday!), so I got up. There went my idea to skip Friday.
Case of the Nasties still raging like some sort of bad seafood allergy, I decided not to post. I figured it would be best for our relationship. But then, Reader, everything changed: I found out that I have fans.
Fans! And they're real live other people! They might have read more of this blog than my mom. So this Friday is Fans Friday. To you, Fans! (You couldn't see it just now, but I poured one out).
Friday, April 10, 2009
Foul breath Friday
I came across this ad the other day:
I blushed and wondered: Do I exhibit the symptoms of blog smog? It was true: I hadn't gone outside to do anything other than take the dogs out or go running in a few days now. So there was that. But did I waddle like that guy in the commercial, with my arms all up in the air for no reason? That was a definite "no." Now for the final symptom: the breath. I stopped typing and did the breath in the hand check. It was iffy.
I reflected on this morning, when I was taking Emma and Sparki out for their morning walk. I ran into a guy asking me if I needed my leaves to be collected. I was surprised he even started talking to me because it was clearly passed the "it's ok to wear your pajamas outside for a few minutes because it's so early and no one will notice" hour, but I was still wearing my pajamas. My bed hair had formed a nice little berret shape with an unexpected, rather artful awning in the back. I was even *gasp* still wearing my retainers! (Yes, it is embarrassing to admit that I still wear them. In my defense, though, my high school history teacher ended every class with his crookedy-toothed smile and a reminder: "Don't forget to wear your retainers, kids!" See, aren't you glad I shared? I feel like we just became bff a little.) Anyway, I wasn't at my best and this guy started to talk to me anyway. His mistake, because when I responded to his question with, "No thanksh, but you chan leave a brochure with my landlady," he backed away a little. Whether the retainer speech impediment had anything to do with it, I'm not sure, but it was clear my breath was not-so-fresh: There was nose-wrinklage. I saw it. I wonder if I had talked for much longer if he would have passed out like those folks in the commercial.
Then again, that was morning breath, not "blog smog," and I did brush after that. But point taken, internet commercial! Today, I will have a piece of gum before I make "face time"! That will surely cure my onion and garlic sandwich breath!
I blushed and wondered: Do I exhibit the symptoms of blog smog? It was true: I hadn't gone outside to do anything other than take the dogs out or go running in a few days now. So there was that. But did I waddle like that guy in the commercial, with my arms all up in the air for no reason? That was a definite "no." Now for the final symptom: the breath. I stopped typing and did the breath in the hand check. It was iffy.
I reflected on this morning, when I was taking Emma and Sparki out for their morning walk. I ran into a guy asking me if I needed my leaves to be collected. I was surprised he even started talking to me because it was clearly passed the "it's ok to wear your pajamas outside for a few minutes because it's so early and no one will notice" hour, but I was still wearing my pajamas. My bed hair had formed a nice little berret shape with an unexpected, rather artful awning in the back. I was even *gasp* still wearing my retainers! (Yes, it is embarrassing to admit that I still wear them. In my defense, though, my high school history teacher ended every class with his crookedy-toothed smile and a reminder: "Don't forget to wear your retainers, kids!" See, aren't you glad I shared? I feel like we just became bff a little.) Anyway, I wasn't at my best and this guy started to talk to me anyway. His mistake, because when I responded to his question with, "No thanksh, but you chan leave a brochure with my landlady," he backed away a little. Whether the retainer speech impediment had anything to do with it, I'm not sure, but it was clear my breath was not-so-fresh: There was nose-wrinklage. I saw it. I wonder if I had talked for much longer if he would have passed out like those folks in the commercial.
Then again, that was morning breath, not "blog smog," and I did brush after that. But point taken, internet commercial! Today, I will have a piece of gum before I make "face time"! That will surely cure my onion and garlic sandwich breath!
Friday, April 3, 2009
Today must be "Philosophical Phriday"
You know how when you're a kid, the world kind of sparkles? Your eyes kind of get that saucer-y quality as you stare at something you've never seen before (ex. Let me get this right - you put a bunch of disgusting goop from the refridgerator into a pan, put it in the oven, and this yummy cake thing comes out 25 minutes later? What do you call it? Cheesecake, eh? More please!) or as you ponder a new concept (ex. What do you mean, the sun is a big ball of gas?! No way, Mr. Saska!). I guess you want to know everything about everything because it all seems so shiny and interesting.
Then as you grow up, you get a little jaded and more than a little side-tracked with all the stuff you're supposed to be learning and doing. You don't have time to ask "why?" anymore. You have social studies homework, band practice, track tryouts...you have to pull an all-nighter because right after you saved your project the floppy disk (that's right floppy disk) broke (true story), sleep in, do a keg stand...you have to camp out in line for the post office to get some forever stamps, stay late at work, schedule time to do nothing...you have a life to lead.
At least, I feel like that's what happened to me. Somewhere along the way, Curious George got lost. This is not very surprising because he always seemed a little ADHD to me, but the point is that he used to visit me all the time...wait, that came out wrong. That sounded like George was some sort of euphemism for a menstrual cycle or was, perhaps, an imaginary friend taken to an unhealthy level. What I mean is that I was once so full of wonder, but my wonder was soon replaced by my list of things to do. Now, however, being unemployed, I've found that "George" is back! I've found myself buying books like "Meteorology Demystified" and asking questions like "why do peeps...do what they do in the microwave?"
So maybe the lesson here is that unemployment can be character-building; not only in a brute existent kind of way, but also in a 'the more you know' kind of way.
Then as you grow up, you get a little jaded and more than a little side-tracked with all the stuff you're supposed to be learning and doing. You don't have time to ask "why?" anymore. You have social studies homework, band practice, track tryouts...you have to pull an all-nighter because right after you saved your project the floppy disk (that's right floppy disk) broke (true story), sleep in, do a keg stand...you have to camp out in line for the post office to get some forever stamps, stay late at work, schedule time to do nothing...you have a life to lead.
At least, I feel like that's what happened to me. Somewhere along the way, Curious George got lost. This is not very surprising because he always seemed a little ADHD to me, but the point is that he used to visit me all the time...wait, that came out wrong. That sounded like George was some sort of euphemism for a menstrual cycle or was, perhaps, an imaginary friend taken to an unhealthy level. What I mean is that I was once so full of wonder, but my wonder was soon replaced by my list of things to do. Now, however, being unemployed, I've found that "George" is back! I've found myself buying books like "Meteorology Demystified" and asking questions like "why do peeps...do what they do in the microwave?"
So maybe the lesson here is that unemployment can be character-building; not only in a brute existent kind of way, but also in a 'the more you know' kind of way.
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