So, I joined Postcrossing. I have sent 6 postcards, and received one so far. On average, it takes one week to receive/send postcards to Europe.
I, apparently, am the best friend of Finland, because I keep getting Finnish addresses to send postcards.
When I signed up for this service, I wasn't in a very happy place. I was kind of sad, and kind of upset that night, so instead of just sending a postcard, I wrote down everything that is/was bothering me, and sent it to a very nice woman who agreed not to scan the letter and put it online.
BECAUSE I WAS STUPID AND SIGNED MY REAL NAME.
So, I tell Ericka, my co-worker what I had done, and she responded with this:
Ericka: "So, let me get this straight, instead of just sending a postcard, like the service said to do, you sent a postcard in an envelope, along with a letter stating your problems at the moment."
Me: "That's about right."
Ericka: "So, this woman, this Finnish woman, who, even though I know European schools are better than ours and all, is in NO WAY QUALIFIED TO HANDLE YOUR SCARY ADULT WHITE WOMAN PROBLEMS, you send her a letter detailing your issues. Even though this woman just wanted a postcard with flowers or bumble bees or some shit on them."
Me: "That's about right."
Ericka: "Did you just wake up one morning and say 'GODDAMN FINNISH WOMAN YOU ARE GOING TO BE MY PENPAL AND YOU'RE GOING TO LIKE IT?'"
Me: "No...see" (Ericka cuts me off)
Ericka: "Did she write back?"
Me: "Uh..."
Ericka: "She wrote back DIDN'T SHE."
Me: "She did."
Ericka: "AND WHAT DID SHE SAY?"
Me: "That I have scary adult white woman problems."
Ericka: "You're damn right she did!"
In fairness, she didn't say that. She was very nice about it. Especially nice if you consider I brought up religion, and when you bring up religion the gloves are legally allowed to come off and she would have been allowed to bitch slap me via postcard.
I think Jesus says that somewhere in 1 Corinthians or something. "If an Americaneth bringeth up religioneth with a European, the Europeaneth can legally in the eyes of the Lord slappeth the Americaneth, especially if the Americaneth bring up her scarey adulth white womaneth problems unwarrentedeth."
Seriously though, go join postcrossing. It is pretty awesome.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Four Truths and One Lie
Rosie the Riveter is my Great Aunt
I am allergic to beer
I love swimming so much, I try to do it as much as I can
I love gin
I have a hole in my eyebrow perfect for piercing
I am allergic to beer
I love swimming so much, I try to do it as much as I can
I love gin
I have a hole in my eyebrow perfect for piercing
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Lazy Sunday Afternoon
I decided to post another webcomic. Mostly because I do not feel like writing on the weekends.
Cornflakes have to be the nastiest cereal around. Seriously. I always think I am eating healthy when I eat them, but then I add a whole cup of sugar to them to make them edible, and that can't be good.
After all, we all know what happens when you eat that much sugar: You get ASSWORMS.
Cornflakes have to be the nastiest cereal around. Seriously. I always think I am eating healthy when I eat them, but then I add a whole cup of sugar to them to make them edible, and that can't be good.
After all, we all know what happens when you eat that much sugar: You get ASSWORMS.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Back in the Day Webcomic
I used to draw comics. A LOT OF COMICS. Art really is my first love, and I kind of ran with it.
Either way, I am going to post some comics here, most of them will be old, some of them will be new.
ALL OF THEM WILL BE SLIGHTLY OFFENSIVE. Back in the day, I didn't really try to curb my swearing, so reader beware, most of them have vulgur language.
Either way, I am going to post some comics here, most of them will be old, some of them will be new.
ALL OF THEM WILL BE SLIGHTLY OFFENSIVE. Back in the day, I didn't really try to curb my swearing, so reader beware, most of them have vulgur language.
Friday, June 27, 2008
A List
Things I Like:
Things I Dislike:
Things I Would Do if I Were Invinceable:
Things I Would NOT Do if Invinceable:
Things I Would Do if I Did Not Have Taste Buds:
- RC Cola
- Math (Specifically Algebra)
- Writing
- Painting Pictures of Robots
- Ebaying
- Thrift Stores
- Sending Odd text messages to my sister regarding how long it would take to get her out of a sink hole or well if she were ever to fall in one (Answers: Never, and 2 hours, respectively)
- Making Graphs on my graphing calculator/computer
- Silent cats that are afraid of me, and therefore stay far away from me
- Reading food blogs
- The Venture Brothers
- Autumn
Things I Dislike:
- Any male with a smaller waist than me
- Women who are shocked when I say I do not wear makeup to work
- Figure Skaters
- Bar Women (you know what I am talking about)
- WHEN THE AIR CONDITIONING GOES OUT AT WORK (like right now! At least I am actually wearing deoterant today)
- My Boss, Lumberg
- My home phone (why do I even HAVE ONE?)
- AT&T
- The entire works of John Steinbeck
- Winter
Things I Would Do if I Were Invinceable:
- Call everyone Cracker, regardless of race/sex
- Smoke a carton of Marlboro Reds a day, after, of course, ripping off the filter
- Ride the rails
- Live in Tel Aviv
- Vacation in Cairo
Things I Would NOT Do if Invinceable:
- Wear a rediculous outfit and save people
- If I did wear a redick outfit and save people, I would not have a cape
Things I Would Do if I Did Not Have Taste Buds:
- Gin and Juice for breakfast
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Vacation
I recognize that I have not been writing long enough to take a vacation, but I am really down today. It feels like every aspect of my life is out of my control. People keep doing things that I do not want them to do, and I realize I cannot control people, but damn, listen to me. At least try.
Onward with my (probably one day) vacation.
Onward with my (probably one day) vacation.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
On Death and Dying
I am not particularly afraid of dying. I say not particularly, but what I mean is I would feel badly for all of you having to carry on without my particular brand of wit. Otherwise, I feel like I have already faced the unknown.
Having had night terrors quite a bit of my life, I can tell you, I have died plenty in my dreams. I was once shot in front of a black SUV. And whomever I was with laid me across the backseat, and as I am bleeding out, I notice I can no longer feel the seatbelt hooks (clasps?) digging into my back.
And then I die.
And I remember thinking even as a child, that when I die I will ask to go back. Jesus is like the Easter Bunny and Santa ALL ROLLED INTO ONE. He will let me go back!
Let me tell you, there was NOTHING ON EARTH that could make me go back. That is how good death felt.
Disturbingly, after I was dead, I didn't wake up right away like I normally do. And boy oh boy was that some peaceful sleep!
Not all the dying dreams have been pleasant though. Dying in itself is pretty painful (from what I have experienced, dream-wise, so you can just take that for what it's worth) since you can feel your organs shutting down.
Once, I had a dream that someone slaughtered me on top of a Burger King roof (and it wasn't that creepy king, either. And I mean literally slaughtered, as in slashed the living bejesus out of me.) and I felt my organs shut down. I literally dragged myself over the side of the building and dropped myself off the side. Mostly because I was afraid I would still be conscious when the birds came to start picking my carcass, and it might take a while for the smell to start and people to figure out that there was a BODY ON THE TOP OF A BURGER KING ROOF.
And, in case you are wondering, I do remember every single dream. Seriously. Most of them are idiotic. Like, I spent a month folding sweaters at Old Navy. A month. AND I DID NOT GET PAID. That has to be the worst part. Like, I went through this mundane training, and then folded sweaters for 8 hours a night in a dream, and I didn't even get paid.
Sometimes I have children. Sometimes not. Sometimes Eric is there, and sometimes not. Recently, I have been working. At my normal job. I think I actually prefer the night terrors to THAT. 16+ hours of formula writing and math. Oh Joy.
Occasionally I talk to the dead. I know what you're thinking, "OH SHE IS CRAZY." or "ME TOO." Rest assured, I do not believe I am actually talking to the dead. I don't know what I am doing, but I am not talking to the actual dead. I also don't believe YOU'RE talking to the dead, but that is a story for another day.
Once, my (deceased) grandmother told me to go to a church that she went to. So we went. It was mother's day. Disturbingly, I got a few answers to my current problems, and since then, the Bible (capitalized or not? Anyone know?) passage they talked about has popped up A LOT.
I once saw my grandfather (my mother's father). But that was a long time ago. He showed up in a hat, and a long overcoat (trench coat?). And I woke up very startled, and he said, "Hello Enna, I'm Mister M*****" Only he said my FULL NAME. And let me tell you, my name isn't Enna, it's something MUCH MUCH LONGER, and he said my full name.
I didn't say anything, and he folded in on himself and disappeared. (Message to my mother: Did he lose a foot? Like, torn off style? Odd, I know.)
And the only thing I could think of was, "Wow, I thought he would be taller."
And that is why I will never win a Pulitzer. Wait, that wasn't what I was talking about.
I hope everyone has a great night. Tonight I have to remember to set my alarm clock, as I did not last night. Which, of course, means I worked some overtime at Old Navy.
Having had night terrors quite a bit of my life, I can tell you, I have died plenty in my dreams. I was once shot in front of a black SUV. And whomever I was with laid me across the backseat, and as I am bleeding out, I notice I can no longer feel the seatbelt hooks (clasps?) digging into my back.
And then I die.
And I remember thinking even as a child, that when I die I will ask to go back. Jesus is like the Easter Bunny and Santa ALL ROLLED INTO ONE. He will let me go back!
Let me tell you, there was NOTHING ON EARTH that could make me go back. That is how good death felt.
Disturbingly, after I was dead, I didn't wake up right away like I normally do. And boy oh boy was that some peaceful sleep!
Not all the dying dreams have been pleasant though. Dying in itself is pretty painful (from what I have experienced, dream-wise, so you can just take that for what it's worth) since you can feel your organs shutting down.
Once, I had a dream that someone slaughtered me on top of a Burger King roof (and it wasn't that creepy king, either. And I mean literally slaughtered, as in slashed the living bejesus out of me.) and I felt my organs shut down. I literally dragged myself over the side of the building and dropped myself off the side. Mostly because I was afraid I would still be conscious when the birds came to start picking my carcass, and it might take a while for the smell to start and people to figure out that there was a BODY ON THE TOP OF A BURGER KING ROOF.
And, in case you are wondering, I do remember every single dream. Seriously. Most of them are idiotic. Like, I spent a month folding sweaters at Old Navy. A month. AND I DID NOT GET PAID. That has to be the worst part. Like, I went through this mundane training, and then folded sweaters for 8 hours a night in a dream, and I didn't even get paid.
Sometimes I have children. Sometimes not. Sometimes Eric is there, and sometimes not. Recently, I have been working. At my normal job. I think I actually prefer the night terrors to THAT. 16+ hours of formula writing and math. Oh Joy.
Occasionally I talk to the dead. I know what you're thinking, "OH SHE IS CRAZY." or "ME TOO." Rest assured, I do not believe I am actually talking to the dead. I don't know what I am doing, but I am not talking to the actual dead. I also don't believe YOU'RE talking to the dead, but that is a story for another day.
Once, my (deceased) grandmother told me to go to a church that she went to. So we went. It was mother's day. Disturbingly, I got a few answers to my current problems, and since then, the Bible (capitalized or not? Anyone know?) passage they talked about has popped up A LOT.
I once saw my grandfather (my mother's father). But that was a long time ago. He showed up in a hat, and a long overcoat (trench coat?). And I woke up very startled, and he said, "Hello Enna, I'm Mister M*****" Only he said my FULL NAME. And let me tell you, my name isn't Enna, it's something MUCH MUCH LONGER, and he said my full name.
I didn't say anything, and he folded in on himself and disappeared. (Message to my mother: Did he lose a foot? Like, torn off style? Odd, I know.)
And the only thing I could think of was, "Wow, I thought he would be taller."
And that is why I will never win a Pulitzer. Wait, that wasn't what I was talking about.
I hope everyone has a great night. Tonight I have to remember to set my alarm clock, as I did not last night. Which, of course, means I worked some overtime at Old Navy.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The Calm Quiet of Failure
[For all intensive purposes, my boss shall be called Lumberg.]
When I first started at my current company, I was given a cell phone, in the event someone needed to get ahold of me. I was told I could wear whatever I wanted, since I was the only one there. I was given incentives, such as game tickets, clothes, gift cards, and a laptop. I was told I could set whatever hours I wanted, as long as the work got done.
And it was BLISSSSSSSS.
Then, they redid their phone contract, and I had to give up my phone (I say give up, but I mean I was allowed to keep the actual phone, the line was just canceled). I didn't mind, I got a raise. And I was ok with giving that up, I had other perks.
The next thing to go was the incentives. They went with my old boss, who left the company. And that sucked MAJORLY. That made me question whether I wanted to continue at the company. But I stayed on, because I could wear what I wanted, and I could come into work at 5 a.m. and leave 1 p.m.
Then, Lumberg came, and with him came new rules. Most were fine. New people bring new ideas, and I was ok with that.
He changed the dress code. We had to dress more professionally now. I was ok with this, because I could come and go as I pleased. So I stayed on.
Today we got word that we need to stay later, say, until after 5. We need to have set schedules. No more "I woke up so I came to work" laissez faire attitude for work schedules.
So internet, I implore you: What should I do?
When I first started at my current company, I was given a cell phone, in the event someone needed to get ahold of me. I was told I could wear whatever I wanted, since I was the only one there. I was given incentives, such as game tickets, clothes, gift cards, and a laptop. I was told I could set whatever hours I wanted, as long as the work got done.
And it was BLISSSSSSSS.
Then, they redid their phone contract, and I had to give up my phone (I say give up, but I mean I was allowed to keep the actual phone, the line was just canceled). I didn't mind, I got a raise. And I was ok with giving that up, I had other perks.
The next thing to go was the incentives. They went with my old boss, who left the company. And that sucked MAJORLY. That made me question whether I wanted to continue at the company. But I stayed on, because I could wear what I wanted, and I could come into work at 5 a.m. and leave 1 p.m.
Then, Lumberg came, and with him came new rules. Most were fine. New people bring new ideas, and I was ok with that.
He changed the dress code. We had to dress more professionally now. I was ok with this, because I could come and go as I pleased. So I stayed on.
Today we got word that we need to stay later, say, until after 5. We need to have set schedules. No more "I woke up so I came to work" laissez faire attitude for work schedules.
So internet, I implore you: What should I do?
Dear CTA:
Hi, my name is Enna, I take your trains one stop on most days. Sometimes I walk. I think I might be permanantly walking.
See, today a tourist asked me which train to take as I was boarding an L Train, and I told him the right train. This took all of three seconds. I had my arm and leg in the door. The door closes. ON MY ARM. "No problem," I think to myself, "the train will alarm that someone is stuck in the doors."
AND THEN THE TRAIN STARTED TO MOVE.
I start to wiggle my arm out of the door, all while walking with the train as it starts to roll. I almost lose my ring in the process. AND MORE IMPORTANTLY I ALMOST LOSE MY ARM. The tourist guy is pulling me and FREAKING THE &%$#@ OUT.
I get my arm out. No harm, no (real) foul. My arm hurts a little, but not as much as, oh, I dunno, it got ripped off.
Tomorrow I will find out exactly what time that train was there, and I am calling it in. Ironically, in the Red Eye (a free commuter newspaper here in Chicago) there is a contest for the worst CTA story. Between this and the old lady who was 'gooey' for a lack of better term would probably win. That story would also gross out everyone ever. So I will not retell it here. Maybe someday, when I am lacking other things to write about.
Ok folks, off to work with me. I have to leave early today, since I am going to walk instead of take the train.
See, today a tourist asked me which train to take as I was boarding an L Train, and I told him the right train. This took all of three seconds. I had my arm and leg in the door. The door closes. ON MY ARM. "No problem," I think to myself, "the train will alarm that someone is stuck in the doors."
AND THEN THE TRAIN STARTED TO MOVE.
I start to wiggle my arm out of the door, all while walking with the train as it starts to roll. I almost lose my ring in the process. AND MORE IMPORTANTLY I ALMOST LOSE MY ARM. The tourist guy is pulling me and FREAKING THE &%$#@ OUT.
I get my arm out. No harm, no (real) foul. My arm hurts a little, but not as much as, oh, I dunno, it got ripped off.
Tomorrow I will find out exactly what time that train was there, and I am calling it in. Ironically, in the Red Eye (a free commuter newspaper here in Chicago) there is a contest for the worst CTA story. Between this and the old lady who was 'gooey' for a lack of better term would probably win. That story would also gross out everyone ever. So I will not retell it here. Maybe someday, when I am lacking other things to write about.
Ok folks, off to work with me. I have to leave early today, since I am going to walk instead of take the train.
Monday, June 23, 2008
ZOMG
IS ANYONE ELSE EXCITED ABOUT THIS: http://foodporndaily.com
Note to my mother: No, it is not women doing strange things with food. It's a food photography blog.
Note to everyone else: No, it is not women doing strange things with food. Sadly.
Note to my mother: No, it is not women doing strange things with food. It's a food photography blog.
Note to everyone else: No, it is not women doing strange things with food. Sadly.
Diet is/was OFF, and then later, BACK ON!
Someone did a Google search on "eating raw sugar" and landed on this blog. My guess is they found out more than they ever wanted to about that subject.
Diet went well. I went to Brookfield Zoo for Eric's company party over the weekend, and had a whole bunch of previously-diet-denied food. But, that was the reason I was even DOING the diet in the first place - to lose enough weight to look good for events this summer. And at those events - I can eat whatever I want. It's almost like a reward for doing things right.
I also celebrated by eating pizza. I know what you're thinking: PIZZA? But remember, I live in Chicago, and pizza here is akin to breathing.
And breathing is akin to fat.
In other news, I am bidding on this. For the link-phobic, she is a doll from my childhood. I have one currently, and her name is Carrie. I am planning on naming this one Carley. It took me FOREVER to find this doll. In Britain, she was called Baby Sweet Face. In America, she is called My Very First Baby Doll. There were THREE different versions of her, the pink, blue, and brown versions. I had the pink, and that is what I am bidding on.
Next I just might buy myself a trampoline! Or as we call them in my house a tramp-pamp-po-line.
Either way, the diet is back on until the fourth of July. And then after that, the plan is to use the cookbook, and try to eat healthy and balanced meals.
And no more shame sammiches. :(
Diet went well. I went to Brookfield Zoo for Eric's company party over the weekend, and had a whole bunch of previously-diet-denied food. But, that was the reason I was even DOING the diet in the first place - to lose enough weight to look good for events this summer. And at those events - I can eat whatever I want. It's almost like a reward for doing things right.
I also celebrated by eating pizza. I know what you're thinking: PIZZA? But remember, I live in Chicago, and pizza here is akin to breathing.
And breathing is akin to fat.
In other news, I am bidding on this. For the link-phobic, she is a doll from my childhood. I have one currently, and her name is Carrie. I am planning on naming this one Carley. It took me FOREVER to find this doll. In Britain, she was called Baby Sweet Face. In America, she is called My Very First Baby Doll. There were THREE different versions of her, the pink, blue, and brown versions. I had the pink, and that is what I am bidding on.
Next I just might buy myself a trampoline! Or as we call them in my house a tramp-pamp-po-line.
Either way, the diet is back on until the fourth of July. And then after that, the plan is to use the cookbook, and try to eat healthy and balanced meals.
And no more shame sammiches. :(
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Things I Know For No Apparent Reason
I know a strange selection of Italian:
Ti è sbandata suo genitali?
Did you crush his genitals?
Tua madre saprebbero.
Your mother would know.
Che cosa un attraente prostituta!
What an attractive prostitute!
I am also working on a cookbook of recipes I like. I am going to color code it. Meat will be in the RED section, fruit will be in the ORANGE section, Vegetables will be in the GREEN section, and starches will be in the YELLOW section. Every night, for dinner, we will pick out one recipe from every section, and make that for dinner. Basically, I have trouble with shopping and cooking because I don't buy any ingredients when I go shopping, I tend to rely on the ready made meals. So I am going to try to stop doing that. I am going to try to plan out meals, and make them complete meals.
Oh and there will be a BLUE section, and that is the dessert section. OH YEAH.
Ti è sbandata suo genitali?
Did you crush his genitals?
Tua madre saprebbero.
Your mother would know.
Che cosa un attraente prostituta!
What an attractive prostitute!
I am also working on a cookbook of recipes I like. I am going to color code it. Meat will be in the RED section, fruit will be in the ORANGE section, Vegetables will be in the GREEN section, and starches will be in the YELLOW section. Every night, for dinner, we will pick out one recipe from every section, and make that for dinner. Basically, I have trouble with shopping and cooking because I don't buy any ingredients when I go shopping, I tend to rely on the ready made meals. So I am going to try to stop doing that. I am going to try to plan out meals, and make them complete meals.
Oh and there will be a BLUE section, and that is the dessert section. OH YEAH.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
And now for something non urine related...
Some cool sites I have found on the Internets (mostly via MetaFilter, which I am also addicted to. But I will save you all the complications or sloshing through the crap and sarcastic inside-joke comments and just post them here for your enjoyment).
This is just freaky. Personally I would find the guy who left it and send it to him, and tell him I filled it in with "glee and the tears of the innocent" just because he left a snarky note. Seriously though, this man could be my grandfather.
DANG. I wish I had my Atari 5200 manual. OH WAIT. There it is. As well as instruction manuals and documents for everything you could ever want. (Full disclosure, I do not own an Atari 5200. But I do own close to every single Ninteno game ever made. I am also now the proud owner of a top loader, and if you know what that means, welcome, you fellow dork you.)
OH THANK YOU. I can totally eat fruit on my diet. AND THIS TOTALLY COUNTS.
I have 450 pounds of ground chuck in my freezer. What should I make? I am tired of meatloaf. Wonder no more. You can enter a single, or multiple ingredients, and it shoots you back recipes.
Why was I not born with a wang?
No, Eric is not allowed to get married in this.
This site is free from any government affiliations. Which means you can somewhat trust it's content. (IT IS STILL A WEBSITE, AFTERALL).
Get my cot ready at Gitmo. I am going all political on you. I read this site. A LOT. Let's face it - if someone is hating America enough to kill himself for his cause, maybe we should pay attention to the news he is reading/watching?
I am linking to McSweeney's. Sorry. I know, it's almost like blog cheating.
That is all folks. Sorry about the lack of entries as of late. I am focusing on...well, other, more important things. Like paying my cable bill. And discovering which self-tanner doesn't make me smell like day-old rotisserie chicken. Tomorrow is Eric's company outing too. I look forward to this so much, it's kind of sad.
This is just freaky. Personally I would find the guy who left it and send it to him, and tell him I filled it in with "glee and the tears of the innocent" just because he left a snarky note. Seriously though, this man could be my grandfather.
DANG. I wish I had my Atari 5200 manual. OH WAIT. There it is. As well as instruction manuals and documents for everything you could ever want. (Full disclosure, I do not own an Atari 5200. But I do own close to every single Ninteno game ever made. I am also now the proud owner of a top loader, and if you know what that means, welcome, you fellow dork you.)
OH THANK YOU. I can totally eat fruit on my diet. AND THIS TOTALLY COUNTS.
I have 450 pounds of ground chuck in my freezer. What should I make? I am tired of meatloaf. Wonder no more. You can enter a single, or multiple ingredients, and it shoots you back recipes.
Why was I not born with a wang?
No, Eric is not allowed to get married in this.
This site is free from any government affiliations. Which means you can somewhat trust it's content. (IT IS STILL A WEBSITE, AFTERALL).
Get my cot ready at Gitmo. I am going all political on you. I read this site. A LOT. Let's face it - if someone is hating America enough to kill himself for his cause, maybe we should pay attention to the news he is reading/watching?
I am linking to McSweeney's. Sorry. I know, it's almost like blog cheating.
That is all folks. Sorry about the lack of entries as of late. I am focusing on...well, other, more important things. Like paying my cable bill. And discovering which self-tanner doesn't make me smell like day-old rotisserie chicken. Tomorrow is Eric's company outing too. I look forward to this so much, it's kind of sad.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Why You Should Always Be Nice to my Little Sister
I sleepwalk. I also, for long periods of time, will have night terrors.
I haven't had any night terrors in awhile. I have NO IDEA what triggers them. I am stressed out right now, but I am not having night terrors. They have a tendency to turn themselves on and off. At whim.
Either way, I live in a high rise condo, and there are sliding doors that lead out to the patio. When we were asked if it is ok if they leave both sets of doors, I yelled out "GOOD GOD YES PLEASE" because each set had locks on them, hard to undo locks, and I knew that would keep me from launching myself off the balcony in the middle of a sleep state.
Once, while sleep-walking, I walked into the living room, got really close to Eric's face, and sneezed. I was maybe half an inch away from his face. His swearing and pushing me away woke me up.
Nothing, however, compares to my little sister, and what I have done to her while sleeping.
We used to share a room, and once, I sat down on her and ate a sandwich while sleeping. I have also yelled at her regarding leaving the bear cage open, and "NOW I HAVE TO MAKE NEW BEARS!" Needless to say, I am a fun roommate.
The best has to be when I gave her a tupperware container full of my own urine.
Yeah. You read that right.
In the middle of the night, I sleepwalked into the kitchen, got some Tupperware out, and peed in it.
The next morning, I wake up, and on my nightstand, there is a Tupperware container full of urine.
I learned two things that day, 1) I need to drink more liquids, and 2) It is more than hysterically funny to wrap a Tupperware container of your own urine in birthday wrapping paper, and then leave it for your sister for when she wakes up.
She still talks about how horrifying it was when she cracked open the container, and it gave that distinct Tupperware hiss when opening, and then the smell came.
I swear, to this day, she is still plotting her revenge.
I haven't had any night terrors in awhile. I have NO IDEA what triggers them. I am stressed out right now, but I am not having night terrors. They have a tendency to turn themselves on and off. At whim.
Either way, I live in a high rise condo, and there are sliding doors that lead out to the patio. When we were asked if it is ok if they leave both sets of doors, I yelled out "GOOD GOD YES PLEASE" because each set had locks on them, hard to undo locks, and I knew that would keep me from launching myself off the balcony in the middle of a sleep state.
Once, while sleep-walking, I walked into the living room, got really close to Eric's face, and sneezed. I was maybe half an inch away from his face. His swearing and pushing me away woke me up.
Nothing, however, compares to my little sister, and what I have done to her while sleeping.
We used to share a room, and once, I sat down on her and ate a sandwich while sleeping. I have also yelled at her regarding leaving the bear cage open, and "NOW I HAVE TO MAKE NEW BEARS!" Needless to say, I am a fun roommate.
The best has to be when I gave her a tupperware container full of my own urine.
Yeah. You read that right.
In the middle of the night, I sleepwalked into the kitchen, got some Tupperware out, and peed in it.
The next morning, I wake up, and on my nightstand, there is a Tupperware container full of urine.
I learned two things that day, 1) I need to drink more liquids, and 2) It is more than hysterically funny to wrap a Tupperware container of your own urine in birthday wrapping paper, and then leave it for your sister for when she wakes up.
She still talks about how horrifying it was when she cracked open the container, and it gave that distinct Tupperware hiss when opening, and then the smell came.
I swear, to this day, she is still plotting her revenge.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Day 16: Not a Good Day
I ran my butt off to catch the early train, and I hopped on it at the last second.
And I am huffing and puffing my way trough the train, and find a seat. And it occurs to me:
I am not wearing deodorant today.
That pretty much sums up my day.
And I am huffing and puffing my way trough the train, and find a seat. And it occurs to me:
I am not wearing deodorant today.
That pretty much sums up my day.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Dear Spam Comment Posters:
I am totally ripping off Letters from the End Consumer, who is awesome, and has the cutest baby alive. She gets away with posting almost topless photos of stars, why can''t I?
Dear Spam Comment Posters:
Why do you think I need Progressive Insurance? Seriously. They suck. I had them. I now have Farmer's. Not only is the customer service better, it's also 1/3 of the cost of YOUR policy. And Progressive, I noticed Farmer's wasn't in your comparison list... how very convenient. And guess what Progressive - I will never go back. THAT IS HOW BAD YOUR CUSTOMER SERVICE WAS.
In Diet News:
Sushi is my friend. This diet is in LOVE with sushi. And thank you Tokyo Lunchbox for being so swift, and (pay attention here, Progressive) having such great customer service! And you give me a little silver tray and plenty of soy sauce. AND you give me a spare set of chopsticks, in the event HR Guy wants a piece of sushi. That's just a nice thing to do.
Yesterday I ate a METRIC TON of lentils in a curry sauce. And I am not sick of it yet. I might make some more today. I found a new grocery store in my town, and you know what that means!
OH, you don't do you?
It means I have to take a picture of myself in front of it.
I am creating an album. Every time we go on vacation, I have to take a picture of myself in front of the local chain grocery store. I will eventually post it online. I know I will. It is my way!
That is pretty much it folks. I am tired, and I feel like watching some Jet Li with my man. Nothing really exciting and diet-related to talk about anymore. Have a great night all.
Dear Spam Comment Posters:
Why do you think I need Progressive Insurance? Seriously. They suck. I had them. I now have Farmer's. Not only is the customer service better, it's also 1/3 of the cost of YOUR policy. And Progressive, I noticed Farmer's wasn't in your comparison list... how very convenient. And guess what Progressive - I will never go back. THAT IS HOW BAD YOUR CUSTOMER SERVICE WAS.
In Diet News:
Sushi is my friend. This diet is in LOVE with sushi. And thank you Tokyo Lunchbox for being so swift, and (pay attention here, Progressive) having such great customer service! And you give me a little silver tray and plenty of soy sauce. AND you give me a spare set of chopsticks, in the event HR Guy wants a piece of sushi. That's just a nice thing to do.
Yesterday I ate a METRIC TON of lentils in a curry sauce. And I am not sick of it yet. I might make some more today. I found a new grocery store in my town, and you know what that means!
OH, you don't do you?
It means I have to take a picture of myself in front of it.
I am creating an album. Every time we go on vacation, I have to take a picture of myself in front of the local chain grocery store. I will eventually post it online. I know I will. It is my way!
That is pretty much it folks. I am tired, and I feel like watching some Jet Li with my man. Nothing really exciting and diet-related to talk about anymore. Have a great night all.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Day 14: The Story of How I Accidentally Ate a Cat
This is the story of how I ate a cat. My mother doubts that it was a cat. You can determine for yourself. Either way, this will always be known to everyone I know as THAT ONE TIME WHEN ENNA ATE A CAT:
I went down to the roach coach (you know, the place where you can buy primarily mexican food from the back of a truck, yeeeeah that place).
The lady who runs the roach coach always has her boobs on display, almost like on a platter. She HAS to wear some form of animal fur at all times.
That day, it was boots that looked like she skinned 25 cats, and kind of hung them off her feet. She usually has a purple pimp hat on too. And she doesn't speak any English. She has got to be Lybian or something. (Nothing against the Lybians or anything, it's more like I cannot determine, after many tries, to figure out where this woman is originally from.)
Normally, I get chile and cheese tamales from the roach coach. They are 50 cents each, and a pretty safe bet. But not that day! That day, I ran up to the truck, waited in line amongst the hookers and pregnant women smoking blunts (she parks in front of the rehab at the end of the block. When they go on break, it smells like a mix of gas-station-grape-cigar and weed. No, I am not kidding.) and when I get up to the front of the line - what luck! She has RIB TIPS!
Enna's favorite food of ALL TIMES! And and and! It's only $2.00! WHAT A STEAL!
See, this is where I go wrong. I should have known that if the crack addicted HOOKERS wouldn't put it in THEIR MOUTHES I should not put it in mine. But
no. I happily pay for my purchase, and run back to my office to eat it.
The first thing I notice is that the meat is more like pulled pork, it's so tender! YAY! Sometimes ribtips are overcooked, and tough. Not this. This is shredded meat. There are no actual rib "parts" in this dish.
But what is with all the little, tiny bones? Normally, rib tips have gristle/cartalidge in them...but these are actual bones...?
And then I notice that there's an actual ribcage.
There are tiny, white, fexible ribs. And the rib cage? It's too small for a pig. It's about the sizeof a ...oh no.
This is when it dawns on me:
I AM EATING A CAT.
With BBQ Sauce, but all the same, I AM EATING A CAT.
I took pictures. They are on my flickr. We have determined that I ate a cat.
I named the cat Freckles.
Freckles was given a proper burial in the kitchen garbage, where even the immigrant kitchen workers, having only seen the carcass in PASSING, were grossed out that this gal ate a cat.
And that is the story of how I (supposedly) ate a cat.
~fin~
I went down to the roach coach (you know, the place where you can buy primarily mexican food from the back of a truck, yeeeeah that place).
The lady who runs the roach coach always has her boobs on display, almost like on a platter. She HAS to wear some form of animal fur at all times.
That day, it was boots that looked like she skinned 25 cats, and kind of hung them off her feet. She usually has a purple pimp hat on too. And she doesn't speak any English. She has got to be Lybian or something. (Nothing against the Lybians or anything, it's more like I cannot determine, after many tries, to figure out where this woman is originally from.)
Normally, I get chile and cheese tamales from the roach coach. They are 50 cents each, and a pretty safe bet. But not that day! That day, I ran up to the truck, waited in line amongst the hookers and pregnant women smoking blunts (she parks in front of the rehab at the end of the block. When they go on break, it smells like a mix of gas-station-grape-cigar and weed. No, I am not kidding.) and when I get up to the front of the line - what luck! She has RIB TIPS!
Enna's favorite food of ALL TIMES! And and and! It's only $2.00! WHAT A STEAL!
See, this is where I go wrong. I should have known that if the crack addicted HOOKERS wouldn't put it in THEIR MOUTHES I should not put it in mine. But
no. I happily pay for my purchase, and run back to my office to eat it.
The first thing I notice is that the meat is more like pulled pork, it's so tender! YAY! Sometimes ribtips are overcooked, and tough. Not this. This is shredded meat. There are no actual rib "parts" in this dish.
But what is with all the little, tiny bones? Normally, rib tips have gristle/cartalidge in them...but these are actual bones...?
And then I notice that there's an actual ribcage.
There are tiny, white, fexible ribs. And the rib cage? It's too small for a pig. It's about the sizeof a ...oh no.
This is when it dawns on me:
I AM EATING A CAT.
With BBQ Sauce, but all the same, I AM EATING A CAT.
I took pictures. They are on my flickr. We have determined that I ate a cat.
I named the cat Freckles.
Freckles was given a proper burial in the kitchen garbage, where even the immigrant kitchen workers, having only seen the carcass in PASSING, were grossed out that this gal ate a cat.
And that is the story of how I (supposedly) ate a cat.
~fin~
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Day 13: Rolling Backouts & Happy Father's Day
I was going to update about the whole I-once-ate-a-cat-story, but we have been having shakey power here for the last 24 hours, I just wanted to update and let everyone know that I was a-okay. There are rolling blackouts, and fell trees (that's correct English, right? A fallen tree is called a fell tree? Like it's hanged instead of hung?) but otherwise everything is okay. There are more storms headed our way tonight.
Last night I discovered something:
I hate AMC/Loews Cinemas. I am pretty sure they own Cinemark too. Before, when Loews was it's own company, they used to give free refills on drinks. Then, AMC acquired them, and they would only offer refills on the $5 large drink. Now, no refills for anyone. TELL ME AGAIN WHY I AM NOT SMUGGLING FOOD INTO THESE PLACES? My mom used to smuggle food and pop in a diaper bag. But she also had a slew of children with her, so no one noticed.
Either way, last night, I discovered something I could eat at the theater, and it is FREE:
Jalapeños. Oh man do I love Jalapeños. And they leave them out in the open like people won't just fill their empty non-refillable pop cup with them. BECAUSE THAT IS JUST WHAT I DID. I walked back into the theater, and Eric notices I am eating something out of the cup, and so he sticks his hand in it, and pulls it out all quick. He had no idea what I had in that cup, he just knew it would be something like curried lamb brains or something gross and he knew he wanted none of that.
I don't know why we don't just go to the Classic Cinemas in the area. Classic Cinemas owns Tivoli, and Ogden 6, which are both right in my area. And the most expensive ticket they have? $4. Also, free refills on popcorn, pop, everything. And they give a student discount. HECK YES.
My $3 student ID has already paid for itself.
Ok, time to go. I can already see another storm cloud rolling in.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY DADOO!
Last night I discovered something:
I hate AMC/Loews Cinemas. I am pretty sure they own Cinemark too. Before, when Loews was it's own company, they used to give free refills on drinks. Then, AMC acquired them, and they would only offer refills on the $5 large drink. Now, no refills for anyone. TELL ME AGAIN WHY I AM NOT SMUGGLING FOOD INTO THESE PLACES? My mom used to smuggle food and pop in a diaper bag. But she also had a slew of children with her, so no one noticed.
Either way, last night, I discovered something I could eat at the theater, and it is FREE:
Jalapeños. Oh man do I love Jalapeños. And they leave them out in the open like people won't just fill their empty non-refillable pop cup with them. BECAUSE THAT IS JUST WHAT I DID. I walked back into the theater, and Eric notices I am eating something out of the cup, and so he sticks his hand in it, and pulls it out all quick. He had no idea what I had in that cup, he just knew it would be something like curried lamb brains or something gross and he knew he wanted none of that.
I don't know why we don't just go to the Classic Cinemas in the area. Classic Cinemas owns Tivoli, and Ogden 6, which are both right in my area. And the most expensive ticket they have? $4. Also, free refills on popcorn, pop, everything. And they give a student discount. HECK YES.
My $3 student ID has already paid for itself.
Ok, time to go. I can already see another storm cloud rolling in.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY DADOO!
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Day 12: Movie Night, as well as Happy Birthday Mom
Sorry again folks, but I am tired. I promise to get up tomorrow and post about how I accidentally ate a cat once. But for the time being, I will just update about my day:
Went to Church. Yes, I realize it is Saturday, I like the Saturday Services. It frees up my Sundays for sweet lady golf.
I went shopping, Eric needed new work boots, and we both needed something to wear to the zoo for his company outing that is happening next Sunday, as well as the Fourth of July. I bought the shirt I wanted in a size smaller than I normally do. YEAH!
I managed to walk in and out of a shoe store and not buy anything for myself. That was not the case at Old Navy, where I walked out with a new pair of flip flops. Cest La Vie. (Somewhere my mother is wincing at my spelling of that.)
Speaking of my mother, today is her birthday, so everyone be nice to her. She's a spectacular lady, even if she blew off taking a test to watch HGTV with my little sister. Congrats on your 34th birthday mom. (Again. Not saying again to be rude, more like NO MY MOTHER DID NOT HAVE ME AT 9 YEARS OLD).
That last statement up there? The pregnant 9 year-old statement? That will bring me the most google searches. MARK MY WORDS PEOPLE.
Going to sleep.
Went to Church. Yes, I realize it is Saturday, I like the Saturday Services. It frees up my Sundays for sweet lady golf.
I went shopping, Eric needed new work boots, and we both needed something to wear to the zoo for his company outing that is happening next Sunday, as well as the Fourth of July. I bought the shirt I wanted in a size smaller than I normally do. YEAH!
I managed to walk in and out of a shoe store and not buy anything for myself. That was not the case at Old Navy, where I walked out with a new pair of flip flops. Cest La Vie. (Somewhere my mother is wincing at my spelling of that.)
Speaking of my mother, today is her birthday, so everyone be nice to her. She's a spectacular lady, even if she blew off taking a test to watch HGTV with my little sister. Congrats on your 34th birthday mom. (Again. Not saying again to be rude, more like NO MY MOTHER DID NOT HAVE ME AT 9 YEARS OLD).
That last statement up there? The pregnant 9 year-old statement? That will bring me the most google searches. MARK MY WORDS PEOPLE.
Going to sleep.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Day 11: Shrimpfest
We had Shrimpfest at my family's house for my mother's birthday tonight, hence the very late entry.
R. Kelly was found not guilty! Now I have to make "Free to Pee" Cupcakes for work on Monday.
Alright, that is about it people. I am tired, and weighed down from all the shrimp and R. Kelly-News-Watching.
Have a great night!
R. Kelly was found not guilty! Now I have to make "Free to Pee" Cupcakes for work on Monday.
Alright, that is about it people. I am tired, and weighed down from all the shrimp and R. Kelly-News-Watching.
Have a great night!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Day 10: A Sports Related Blog Entry from a Chick
We are looking for a new Controller for my company, so we have applicants coming in and out of the office all day long.
We had someone come in yesterday who looked exactly like Jackie Mac.
I should stop the story right now and explain who Jackie Mac is. Jackie MacMullan is an occasionally featured panelist on Around the Horn on ESPN. She writes for the Boston Globe.
You're probably wondering why I know who Jackie Mac is, as well as why I even watch ESPN.
Around the Horn is a bit of a daily tradition in my house. It's a panelist show on ESPN, and every day, Eric and I race home to watch it. Afterwards, out of sheer laziness, we have started to watch Pardon the Interruption. I like PTI, which the exception of the segment 5 Good Minutes, which is the most inappropriately named segment on television currently.
Anyway, I watch an horrendous amount of international soccer, as well golf, and White Sox baseball. My second favorite team is the Boston Red Sox, mostly because when watching their games I can scream GO BEAN TOWN at the TV.
On the topic of me watching Soccer and Golf, my whole company thinks that I watch the most boring sports in history. They are convinced that if curling were televised nightly I would be planted in front of the TV watching it.
And, I would like to take the time to state something right now: I am a Packer's Fan. It's not that I hate the Bears, I just really thought Brett Farve was a really stand up guy.
And, well, the Bears have ... Rex Grossman.
(And, for the record, Eric is an AVID Bears fan. And we have had many an argument that has ended with him screaming at me "FOR THE RECORD WOMAN WE BLEED BLUE AND ORANGE IN THIS HOUSE!"
ANYWAY, before I get too off topic, when Eric and I get home, we make horn signs by putting up one finger on each hand and placing them on either side of our heads, and then we scream "HORN" at each other.
So, when the Human Resources Guy comes to meet with the Jackie Mac look-a-like that is interviewing for the Controller position, I am mouthing to HR Guy "OMG LOOK IT IS JACKIE MAC ESPN JACKIE MAC" and he is looking at me strangely, and as he turns to show her into the conference room, I make the horn sign. AND SHE TURNS AROUND TO LOOK AT ME. She sees me making horns and an odd face, and looks very confused.
And I respond with "...moo?"
Because, for whatever reason, that seemed like the logical reaction at the time.
We had someone come in yesterday who looked exactly like Jackie Mac.
I should stop the story right now and explain who Jackie Mac is. Jackie MacMullan is an occasionally featured panelist on Around the Horn on ESPN. She writes for the Boston Globe.
You're probably wondering why I know who Jackie Mac is, as well as why I even watch ESPN.
Around the Horn is a bit of a daily tradition in my house. It's a panelist show on ESPN, and every day, Eric and I race home to watch it. Afterwards, out of sheer laziness, we have started to watch Pardon the Interruption. I like PTI, which the exception of the segment 5 Good Minutes, which is the most inappropriately named segment on television currently.
Anyway, I watch an horrendous amount of international soccer, as well golf, and White Sox baseball. My second favorite team is the Boston Red Sox, mostly because when watching their games I can scream GO BEAN TOWN at the TV.
On the topic of me watching Soccer and Golf, my whole company thinks that I watch the most boring sports in history. They are convinced that if curling were televised nightly I would be planted in front of the TV watching it.
And, I would like to take the time to state something right now: I am a Packer's Fan. It's not that I hate the Bears, I just really thought Brett Farve was a really stand up guy.
And, well, the Bears have ... Rex Grossman.
(And, for the record, Eric is an AVID Bears fan. And we have had many an argument that has ended with him screaming at me "FOR THE RECORD WOMAN WE BLEED BLUE AND ORANGE IN THIS HOUSE!"
ANYWAY, before I get too off topic, when Eric and I get home, we make horn signs by putting up one finger on each hand and placing them on either side of our heads, and then we scream "HORN" at each other.
So, when the Human Resources Guy comes to meet with the Jackie Mac look-a-like that is interviewing for the Controller position, I am mouthing to HR Guy "OMG LOOK IT IS JACKIE MAC ESPN JACKIE MAC" and he is looking at me strangely, and as he turns to show her into the conference room, I make the horn sign. AND SHE TURNS AROUND TO LOOK AT ME. She sees me making horns and an odd face, and looks very confused.
And I respond with "...moo?"
Because, for whatever reason, that seemed like the logical reaction at the time.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Day 9: Assworms
I normally try not to swear in my blog. Unfortunately, this story will always be known as the Assworms Story to my entire family. Sorry for ruining your precious virgin eyes. Just be glad I didn't do it with a fork.
The Assworms Story is what I was trying to remember to write about the other day, when the power went out.
My Grandma Melrose used to have full tea sets sitting out around her house, and in these tea sets, there was the greatest prize of all for a child: Sugar Cubes!
So, my brother and I would stuff our faces with sugar cubes every single chance we got. No one really paid too much attention to the fact that we were filling up on little cubes of tooth rot. That is, until my father noticed that we were eating pure sugar.
His reaction? To tell us that if you ate pure sugar, you would get a bad case of assworm (for you technical types, he meant pinworms.)
We believed him.
Flash forward roughly 12 years...
My mother is telling me a story where someone she knows is sucking on a sugar packet (I don't really remember the reason or even who.) and I replied, completely serious and straight faced, "She shouldn't do that. She'll get a bad case of assworms. Then the doctor will have to shove his whole hand up there and get the dirt and worms out, otherwise they will spread to her heart."
My mother was SHOCKED.
She was looking at me like she was waiting for the punch line. I looked at her like are you shocked that I know this, or are you shocked because you never knew there was such a thing as assworms? Because if you never knew about it you should get checked!
[The dirt in your ass thing? I naturally assumed all worms create dirt. Hey, it made sense to me. Don't judge!]
That was the day I found out that no, eating straight sugar does not give you pinworms. Also, pinworms? They don't spread to your heart. Unless you're a dog.
And that was the day my mother learned that I am a very gullible child, and my dad has a very sick sense of humor.
Sadly, this is not the end of the story.
To celebrate that there is no such thing as 'assworms,' I opted to go and eat about half a box of sugar in the raw.
I got about a cup in, and I looked down, and lo and behold, there were meal worms in it. Have you almost choked to death on sugar in the raw? It isn't pleasant. It starts coming out your nose, and it tears it all up, and then you get a nosebleed. All-in-all, if you are ever celebrating your freedom from the oppression of assworms, stick to refined sugar. It just seems like it would be softer to choke on.
On another note: I went to Catholic School for grammar school, and every morning we had morning prayers. We also said the Pledge of Allegiance. Only we all called it "praying" the Pledge of Allegiance. Imagine my surprise when I found out other people in other religions knew that prayer too! THE WHOLE COUNTRY KNEW THAT PRAYER. I am mostly surprised no one ever corrected me.
And then there's that time in Junior year where I asked who Richard Stanz is. My teacher looked at me oddly, and I explained, "You know, the guy in the Pledge, I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and for Richard Stanz..."
Yeeeeeah. Sorry this wasn't diet-related again. I stuck to the diet today though. I ate a ton of fruit and vegetables for lunch, and then took a walk. It was a grand day, all around. And assworm free to boot!
The Assworms Story is what I was trying to remember to write about the other day, when the power went out.
My Grandma Melrose used to have full tea sets sitting out around her house, and in these tea sets, there was the greatest prize of all for a child: Sugar Cubes!
So, my brother and I would stuff our faces with sugar cubes every single chance we got. No one really paid too much attention to the fact that we were filling up on little cubes of tooth rot. That is, until my father noticed that we were eating pure sugar.
His reaction? To tell us that if you ate pure sugar, you would get a bad case of assworm (for you technical types, he meant pinworms.)
We believed him.
Flash forward roughly 12 years...
My mother is telling me a story where someone she knows is sucking on a sugar packet (I don't really remember the reason or even who.) and I replied, completely serious and straight faced, "She shouldn't do that. She'll get a bad case of assworms. Then the doctor will have to shove his whole hand up there and get the dirt and worms out, otherwise they will spread to her heart."
My mother was SHOCKED.
She was looking at me like she was waiting for the punch line. I looked at her like are you shocked that I know this, or are you shocked because you never knew there was such a thing as assworms? Because if you never knew about it you should get checked!
[The dirt in your ass thing? I naturally assumed all worms create dirt. Hey, it made sense to me. Don't judge!]
That was the day I found out that no, eating straight sugar does not give you pinworms. Also, pinworms? They don't spread to your heart. Unless you're a dog.
And that was the day my mother learned that I am a very gullible child, and my dad has a very sick sense of humor.
Sadly, this is not the end of the story.
To celebrate that there is no such thing as 'assworms,' I opted to go and eat about half a box of sugar in the raw.
I got about a cup in, and I looked down, and lo and behold, there were meal worms in it. Have you almost choked to death on sugar in the raw? It isn't pleasant. It starts coming out your nose, and it tears it all up, and then you get a nosebleed. All-in-all, if you are ever celebrating your freedom from the oppression of assworms, stick to refined sugar. It just seems like it would be softer to choke on.
On another note: I went to Catholic School for grammar school, and every morning we had morning prayers. We also said the Pledge of Allegiance. Only we all called it "praying" the Pledge of Allegiance. Imagine my surprise when I found out other people in other religions knew that prayer too! THE WHOLE COUNTRY KNEW THAT PRAYER. I am mostly surprised no one ever corrected me.
And then there's that time in Junior year where I asked who Richard Stanz is. My teacher looked at me oddly, and I explained, "You know, the guy in the Pledge, I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and for Richard Stanz..."
Yeeeeeah. Sorry this wasn't diet-related again. I stuck to the diet today though. I ate a ton of fruit and vegetables for lunch, and then took a walk. It was a grand day, all around. And assworm free to boot!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Day 8: I Threw Up Today
I did not throw up intentionally today. But I did throw up. Perhaps it was the fact that I got aggressive with someone today, or perhaps it was the heat. Or perhaps it was the $1 Double Cheeseburger I wolfed down (woopsie!) but not to worry! I threw it right up. I didn't even get through the sammich before it was coming back up!
And I need to tell you a little background about my company: A lot of immigrants work at the gigantic production area in back. Many of these immigrants bring their... unusual bathroom activities with them. (Unusual being the best possible word I could think of at the time. I am not meant to be a writer, what with my lack of synonyms.)
And so I am throwing up, and lo and behold, I am kneeling in pee, and there is pee and shoe prints alllllll over the toilet.
And wouldn't you know it! That made me throw up EVEN MORE.
I mean how do get shoe prints on the UNDER SIDE OF THE TOILET LID. HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?
Luckily I wore a skirt today, so I was able to wash the other people piss off my legs (somewhere right now, out in the great wide world, my mother is recoiling in horror, and she does not know why.)
I couldn't even eat my carrot sticks after that. I had a whole lot of Gatorade instead. And some pop because I needed a stomach settler. Thank goodness I have a whole case of ginger ale in my desk.
I also ate part of a muffin later, but that made me feel oookie and mookie, to use the terms I would use as a child (right before I would hide my face in my mother's drapes and vomit. I was a wonderful child.)
All around it was a stellar day. As you can probably tell.
And I need to tell you a little background about my company: A lot of immigrants work at the gigantic production area in back. Many of these immigrants bring their... unusual bathroom activities with them. (Unusual being the best possible word I could think of at the time. I am not meant to be a writer, what with my lack of synonyms.)
And so I am throwing up, and lo and behold, I am kneeling in pee, and there is pee and shoe prints alllllll over the toilet.
And wouldn't you know it! That made me throw up EVEN MORE.
I mean how do get shoe prints on the UNDER SIDE OF THE TOILET LID. HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?
Luckily I wore a skirt today, so I was able to wash the other people piss off my legs (somewhere right now, out in the great wide world, my mother is recoiling in horror, and she does not know why.)
I couldn't even eat my carrot sticks after that. I had a whole lot of Gatorade instead. And some pop because I needed a stomach settler. Thank goodness I have a whole case of ginger ale in my desk.
I also ate part of a muffin later, but that made me feel oookie and mookie, to use the terms I would use as a child (right before I would hide my face in my mother's drapes and vomit. I was a wonderful child.)
All around it was a stellar day. As you can probably tell.
A Brief Interlude
I went to a Catholic Church two weekends ago, and I was helping take down the altar (long story - the mass was in a gym, it was an informal mass) and I walked into the prep area (where the Priests change, yeah, that area aka the Molestus Alterboyus Muchus area) and there was a big jug of wine.
Now, this blew my mind for one reason. Once, in first grade, I was told that the nuns make the wine. I never really doubted it, since they all wore those rediculous shoes and black tights, I figured that was because at night they were stomping grapes to make the Blood of Christ for the next Sunday and their legs and feet were all stained. (I am resisting the urge to call it Jesus Juice...I am resisting the urge to call it Jesus Juice).
I guess I never thought about it, but I will be darned if that didn't BLOW MY MIND. I was cursing myself for not having a camera to take a picture of this in the event someone somehow doubted me.
Then I remembered that I am the most gullable person alive, and everyone else probably knew that the Catholic Church buys $4 jugs of wine, and that the nuns don't make it.
Now, this blew my mind for one reason. Once, in first grade, I was told that the nuns make the wine. I never really doubted it, since they all wore those rediculous shoes and black tights, I figured that was because at night they were stomping grapes to make the Blood of Christ for the next Sunday and their legs and feet were all stained. (I am resisting the urge to call it Jesus Juice...I am resisting the urge to call it Jesus Juice).
I guess I never thought about it, but I will be darned if that didn't BLOW MY MIND. I was cursing myself for not having a camera to take a picture of this in the event someone somehow doubted me.
Then I remembered that I am the most gullable person alive, and everyone else probably knew that the Catholic Church buys $4 jugs of wine, and that the nuns don't make it.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Day 7: No Internet, No Work, Makes Enna Drink Pop all Day
With all the bad weather rolling through the midwest lately, our internet at work is shakey at best. Let's face it, I don't work in the best area of town (cough cough west side of Chicago cough cough). When it rains, the toilets smell like raw sewage, the power goes on and off, the people in projects all come out and sit on their porches and stair us down. All around it's great! Before, we used to be able to leave early. But that was before, when we had a nice boss. (Excuse me while I get myself dooced.)
So I had a whole planned out entry I was going to write, but dang if I didn't remember what I wanted to write about when I got home. STUPID LACK OF INTERNET AT WORK!
So, what I did at work today was drank a 20 oz RC Cola. Seriously. Wooopsie!
On the plus side, I got complemented on how much weight I have lost. TWICE. Score one for this chubby girl!
So all around it was a pretty boring day, and for those of you wondering: Shame Sammich's (I am in Chicagoland after all) is a split Oreo cookie and filled with marshmallow fluff and rolled in powdered sugar.
Followed up with a cry in the closet. I am a white woman after all!
So I had a whole planned out entry I was going to write, but dang if I didn't remember what I wanted to write about when I got home. STUPID LACK OF INTERNET AT WORK!
So, what I did at work today was drank a 20 oz RC Cola. Seriously. Wooopsie!
On the plus side, I got complemented on how much weight I have lost. TWICE. Score one for this chubby girl!
So all around it was a pretty boring day, and for those of you wondering: Shame Sammich's (I am in Chicagoland after all) is a split Oreo cookie and filled with marshmallow fluff and rolled in powdered sugar.
Followed up with a cry in the closet. I am a white woman after all!
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Day 6: Storming Over Here
I live in Illinois, where there have been storms all week and frequent tornadoes. Which means I am doing nothing but indoor exercises, which means I am all cabin-fevery. I haven't made it to the gym yet, which sucks, and the reason I have not made it to the gym:
I have not done laundry, therefore my gym clothes smell like moldy sweaty girl butt. That being the technical term.
So hopefully I will get on the laundry, and then off to the gym with me!
I have not done laundry, therefore my gym clothes smell like moldy sweaty girl butt. That being the technical term.
So hopefully I will get on the laundry, and then off to the gym with me!
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Day 5: Movie Night! Going Strong!
Tonight was movie night here at my house, and we went to the Tivoli theater. I did really well, I ate pretty much no bad food. The guy behind me, however, WAS OBVIOUSLY NOT ON MY DIET PLAN.
He was huge, he ate like a cow chewing his cud, and had horrible gas. And his cell kept going off. And you'll never guess what? Some one BRED with this man. His kids were running up and down the isles.
Ahhh, movie night, it reminds me every time to sign up for Netflix.
Annoying-movie-theater-man's kids were so obnoxious I started to think about how many calories where in children. I mean, they're probably like lobster, very little calories without the drawn butter.
Sorry this post isn't really diet-centered, but there's only so many times a person can say on a blog, "Today I ate a handful of green beans, and some grapefruit, and a banana, and some grapes." because let me tell you, writing about it is about as exhilarating as LIVING it.
Some good news (that IS diet related), I have dropped almost an inch off my stomach-area of my waist. And that's at NIGHT, not in the morning, where I am my super-skinniest-self. You know, that time in the morning when bathing suit shopping seems like a great idea.
As a workout today, I steam-cleaned my carpets. And I shut off the air conditioning to do it too. I probably sweat that inch off myself in water weight alone. But you should SEE my pretty carpets!
That's about it folks, it's time for me to be going to bed, otherwise I might run out and buy a Sam's Club size bag of Double Stuff Oreos and some Marshmallow Fluff and make myself some Shame Sandwiches. Goodnight!
He was huge, he ate like a cow chewing his cud, and had horrible gas. And his cell kept going off. And you'll never guess what? Some one BRED with this man. His kids were running up and down the isles.
Ahhh, movie night, it reminds me every time to sign up for Netflix.
Annoying-movie-theater-man's kids were so obnoxious I started to think about how many calories where in children. I mean, they're probably like lobster, very little calories without the drawn butter.
Sorry this post isn't really diet-centered, but there's only so many times a person can say on a blog, "Today I ate a handful of green beans, and some grapefruit, and a banana, and some grapes." because let me tell you, writing about it is about as exhilarating as LIVING it.
Some good news (that IS diet related), I have dropped almost an inch off my stomach-area of my waist. And that's at NIGHT, not in the morning, where I am my super-skinniest-self. You know, that time in the morning when bathing suit shopping seems like a great idea.
As a workout today, I steam-cleaned my carpets. And I shut off the air conditioning to do it too. I probably sweat that inch off myself in water weight alone. But you should SEE my pretty carpets!
That's about it folks, it's time for me to be going to bed, otherwise I might run out and buy a Sam's Club size bag of Double Stuff Oreos and some Marshmallow Fluff and make myself some Shame Sandwiches. Goodnight!
Friday, June 6, 2008
Day 4: Enter the Fiber!
So, I take a fiber supplement. I should have mentioned that sooner, but I managed to forget (seeing as how we are opening another store, and that makes things hectic at work). One of my favorite things to do is give fiber to my co-worker Jason. I think I am making a believer out of him.
Today was a very easy day to stick to my diet. Allow me to explain why:
Remember when Martha Stewart's dog died? And she wrapped it in that weird burial garb? No? Well, let me refresh your memory for you:
Yeah. Creeeeeepy.
(Caveat to this entry: It gets a little gross. Also, I should probably tell you know, the more inappropriate the thought, the less my head filters it before it comes out of my mouth.)
ANYWAY, today, I was at work, and I happened to wonder aloud if Martha had to gut the dog before she buried it, and if she gutted it, did she bury the guts in a little bag like they do humans, or did she just throw them away?
And there was a collective GASP in the office.
And Jason, my fiber-loving co-worker, finally picked up his jaw off the floor and ask, "I'm sorry Enna, but did you just say that humans bury their organs in a little bag?"
And I replied, "Yeah, they remove your organs and put them in this bag and put them at the foot of the casket."
*more gasps*
When Jason once again composes himself again, he asks, "Enna, what kind of bag? Like a grocery bag?"
I laugh my butt off and say, "No, it's not like they just suck your organs out, put it in a Crown Royal bag (it being the classiest bag of all) and whip in the casket as they lower you into the ground saying, 'here ya go buddy, enjoy these in the afterlife!' there's a whole process to it!"
At this point, two of my co-workers jump on wikipedia and look up embalming, and I call my mother, who was the original person who told me of this method, and she confirms that she saw it on Frontline or Dateline or some lite-news special-interest show.
Jason then informs me that wikipedia says that they do not remove the organs, but (and this gets gross) more liquefy them in your body with some special tools and acids (I stopped listening around this point and went to my happy place.)
So, I google embalming methods. And lo and behold, if there is an autopsy performed, then they put your organs in a bag at the base of your coffin afterwards.
And that is why I had no problem not eating crap today, (and had a HARD time eating in general) because I spent a chunk of my day goofing off and googling embalming methods. And to you people who run embalming information sites THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PICTURES. And when I say thanks? I mean I will have nightmares about this for WEEKS.
Today was a very easy day to stick to my diet. Allow me to explain why:
Remember when Martha Stewart's dog died? And she wrapped it in that weird burial garb? No? Well, let me refresh your memory for you:
Yeah. Creeeeeepy.
(Caveat to this entry: It gets a little gross. Also, I should probably tell you know, the more inappropriate the thought, the less my head filters it before it comes out of my mouth.)
ANYWAY, today, I was at work, and I happened to wonder aloud if Martha had to gut the dog before she buried it, and if she gutted it, did she bury the guts in a little bag like they do humans, or did she just throw them away?
And there was a collective GASP in the office.
And Jason, my fiber-loving co-worker, finally picked up his jaw off the floor and ask, "I'm sorry Enna, but did you just say that humans bury their organs in a little bag?"
And I replied, "Yeah, they remove your organs and put them in this bag and put them at the foot of the casket."
*more gasps*
When Jason once again composes himself again, he asks, "Enna, what kind of bag? Like a grocery bag?"
I laugh my butt off and say, "No, it's not like they just suck your organs out, put it in a Crown Royal bag (it being the classiest bag of all) and whip in the casket as they lower you into the ground saying, 'here ya go buddy, enjoy these in the afterlife!' there's a whole process to it!"
At this point, two of my co-workers jump on wikipedia and look up embalming, and I call my mother, who was the original person who told me of this method, and she confirms that she saw it on Frontline or Dateline or some lite-news special-interest show.
Jason then informs me that wikipedia says that they do not remove the organs, but (and this gets gross) more liquefy them in your body with some special tools and acids (I stopped listening around this point and went to my happy place.)
So, I google embalming methods. And lo and behold, if there is an autopsy performed, then they put your organs in a bag at the base of your coffin afterwards.
And that is why I had no problem not eating crap today, (and had a HARD time eating in general) because I spent a chunk of my day goofing off and googling embalming methods. And to you people who run embalming information sites THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PICTURES. And when I say thanks? I mean I will have nightmares about this for WEEKS.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Day 3 - Going Strong
I had a bit of a stomach ache last night (perhaps from all the $#@%#$@! FRUIT) so I drank some ginger ale. Does that count as breaking my diet? I should hope not.
I am trying to think of something diet related to post about, but really, I cannot. I haven't been cheating on the diet other than... you know, that one time.
So, instead, I shall regail you with other events from my obviously steller, exciting, fresh-scented-deoterant life:
1. I am thinking now more than ever about going into business for myself.
2. I am joining a Lutheran Bible Study. No jokes please. ACTUALLY! This does relate to this diet! I will tell you more about it after this list!
3. I worked out my arms last night. Carrie helped. No more chicken waddle! And Eric got free tickets to the gun show!
4. A DJ from B96 put an ad on Craigslist advertising a meetup for men who have feet fetishes. It is disturbing, and not for the normal freaky-people-on-Craigslist disturbing, but because they are talking about rubbing food inbetween their toes. AND IT IS FOOD I CANNOT EAT like marshmallow fluff and I am all like 'oooh yeah, just gimmie the fluff baby' YOU CAN KEEP THE TOES REALLY. Especially considering I have the most attractive toes I have ever seen (and I am not boasting here people) and I don't want to lick jelly off of my own feet. Let alone some weirdo's from craigslist. But damn I could go for some fluff.
Ok, so the Lutheran Bible Study has a bent on staying healthy. So they read a lot of the Bible (is that capitalized?) where God/Moses/Jesus talks about eating right and not screwing your goats or something. In the time before Craigslist, there were freaky people then too!
It's like Bible Study + Weight Watchers + Jell-O (Because they're Lutherans) = My Lutheran Bible Study!
I am trying to think of something diet related to post about, but really, I cannot. I haven't been cheating on the diet other than... you know, that one time.
So, instead, I shall regail you with other events from my obviously steller, exciting, fresh-scented-deoterant life:
1. I am thinking now more than ever about going into business for myself.
2. I am joining a Lutheran Bible Study. No jokes please. ACTUALLY! This does relate to this diet! I will tell you more about it after this list!
3. I worked out my arms last night. Carrie helped. No more chicken waddle! And Eric got free tickets to the gun show!
4. A DJ from B96 put an ad on Craigslist advertising a meetup for men who have feet fetishes. It is disturbing, and not for the normal freaky-people-on-Craigslist disturbing, but because they are talking about rubbing food inbetween their toes. AND IT IS FOOD I CANNOT EAT like marshmallow fluff and I am all like 'oooh yeah, just gimmie the fluff baby' YOU CAN KEEP THE TOES REALLY. Especially considering I have the most attractive toes I have ever seen (and I am not boasting here people) and I don't want to lick jelly off of my own feet. Let alone some weirdo's from craigslist. But damn I could go for some fluff.
Ok, so the Lutheran Bible Study has a bent on staying healthy. So they read a lot of the Bible (is that capitalized?) where God/Moses/Jesus talks about eating right and not screwing your goats or something. In the time before Craigslist, there were freaky people then too!
It's like Bible Study + Weight Watchers + Jell-O (Because they're Lutherans) = My Lutheran Bible Study!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Set Back Day 2
This morning I went to CVS to get a Freeze Away wart system (not that I have warts, I want to freeze the ants that are starting to infest my sister's room. Don't act like that doesn't sound like fun) and I noticed a Little Debbie Strawberry Shortcake.
And that Little Debbie callllllllled to me.
And I ate it.
I hadn't even paid for it, and I ate it. In the store. LIKE A HOBO.
Next you would expect me to run up and down the deoterant isle rubbing various deoterants on my genetals and then put them back on the shelf! (Yeah, good luck getting that image out of your head!)
I had to sadly walk up to the register, pay for all my items, and then hand her the no-longer-sticky-because-I-sucked-that-fucker-dry wrapper with the UPC code and told her (without looking at her out of sheer shame) to 'also ring this up please.'
So, I had a brief relapse into my slothful, Little-Debbie-for-Breakfast ways. The diet can still go on as long as I learned something from this relapse, and what I learned is:
Little Debbie is Satan Incarnate for tasting that good. Also, I am never going to buy deoterant from that CVS, seeing as how I have already "tested" it anyhow.
And that Little Debbie callllllllled to me.
And I ate it.
I hadn't even paid for it, and I ate it. In the store. LIKE A HOBO.
Next you would expect me to run up and down the deoterant isle rubbing various deoterants on my genetals and then put them back on the shelf! (Yeah, good luck getting that image out of your head!)
I had to sadly walk up to the register, pay for all my items, and then hand her the no-longer-sticky-because-I-sucked-that-fucker-dry wrapper with the UPC code and told her (without looking at her out of sheer shame) to 'also ring this up please.'
So, I had a brief relapse into my slothful, Little-Debbie-for-Breakfast ways. The diet can still go on as long as I learned something from this relapse, and what I learned is:
Little Debbie is Satan Incarnate for tasting that good. Also, I am never going to buy deoterant from that CVS, seeing as how I have already "tested" it anyhow.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
What is this diet?
So, I have decided to go on a diet. My diet is an augmented version of the Detox Diet.
Only mine is better.
How so - you ask? Well, for one, I could care less about Detoxing, I just want to eat better and lose some inches off my waist. I don't want to lose my curves, however.
Rules:
I can eat any fruit.
I can eat any vegetable.
I can eat any fish.
I can eat minor amounts of dairy (no more than one serving a day)
I can take a multivitamin
I can take Fish Oil Capsules (I like to say I CAN to this, mostly because it is gross and gives belches that taste remarkably like homeless-woman-coochie. This is my attempt at staying positive.)
I CANNOT:
Eat Grains or carbs
Sugars
Pop (Sweet Lady Caffine! DON'T LEAVE ME!)
Anything remotely tasty
Beef
Things smothered in cheese, tasty tasty cheese...
Real Homeless-woman-coochie
Even diet pop is a no-go
Hooters TMI Chicken Wings with a side of blue cheese dressing...
(The above list is what I will be eating on day 31...)
WHAT DO I HOPE TO ACCOMPLISH?
I want to lose 5 inches off my waist. If I lose more that would be great as well. Allow me to illustrate my goals for you in this lovely graph.
Thank God for my graph-making skills! I imagine God up there in His Heaven Workshop, all making people, and he gets to me, and says, "We'll give her excellent graph skills, and to balance her out, ahhhhh we'll make it look like she is perpetually 4 months pregnant. Men will constantly give up their seat for her, and it will take her months to figure out why!"
Also, I will be working my stomach muscles, as well as working out 4 times a week. I will be definitely be doing this diet for the next 30 days.
My favorite holiday is coming up - the Fourth of July! I am getting all geared up for it. Also, if this is a success, I might extend it for Eric's (the significant other, for those of you who are newbies) Christmas party.
I promise to try to update once a day, for at least the next 30 days. Hey, is Morgan Spurlock can do ridiculous shit for 30 days, so can I.
Only mine is better.
How so - you ask? Well, for one, I could care less about Detoxing, I just want to eat better and lose some inches off my waist. I don't want to lose my curves, however.
Rules:
I can eat any fruit.
I can eat any vegetable.
I can eat any fish.
I can eat minor amounts of dairy (no more than one serving a day)
I can take a multivitamin
I can take Fish Oil Capsules (I like to say I CAN to this, mostly because it is gross and gives belches that taste remarkably like homeless-woman-coochie. This is my attempt at staying positive.)
I CANNOT:
Eat Grains or carbs
Sugars
Pop (Sweet Lady Caffine! DON'T LEAVE ME!)
Anything remotely tasty
Beef
Things smothered in cheese, tasty tasty cheese...
Real Homeless-woman-coochie
Even diet pop is a no-go
Hooters TMI Chicken Wings with a side of blue cheese dressing...
(The above list is what I will be eating on day 31...)
WHAT DO I HOPE TO ACCOMPLISH?
I want to lose 5 inches off my waist. If I lose more that would be great as well. Allow me to illustrate my goals for you in this lovely graph.
Thank God for my graph-making skills! I imagine God up there in His Heaven Workshop, all making people, and he gets to me, and says, "We'll give her excellent graph skills, and to balance her out, ahhhhh we'll make it look like she is perpetually 4 months pregnant. Men will constantly give up their seat for her, and it will take her months to figure out why!"
Also, I will be working my stomach muscles, as well as working out 4 times a week. I will be definitely be doing this diet for the next 30 days.
My favorite holiday is coming up - the Fourth of July! I am getting all geared up for it. Also, if this is a success, I might extend it for Eric's (the significant other, for those of you who are newbies) Christmas party.
I promise to try to update once a day, for at least the next 30 days. Hey, is Morgan Spurlock can do ridiculous shit for 30 days, so can I.
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