i sorry.

that last post was mean. to make up for it i'll just say its ok to look like jay leno. i've been told that i look like phillip seymore hoffmann and lafou from beauty and beast. i'd rather look like jay than either of those.

jay leno w/ a smokey eye

blog posting is more appealing when yer buzzin' like a bee. i don't buzz often, and i hardly ever sting...but once in awhile you just drink a bottle of wine by yourself on a sat. night and get da partay started up in yer macbook.

im lonely, but not lonely enough to not drink alone.

the only people who want to hang out with me are 40 year old men.

my boss commented the other day "if i was 20 years younger and single...i just don't understand how you are not married!". I thought he was asking a question, so i gave him a 5 minute, very vulnerable answer. After the awkward silence following my story I figured out he was just being jovial and not really wondering why I was single.

that would have been awkward if it hadn't been for that one time...

the time he said something slightly off-color and apologized for being "inappropriate". to make sure he knew i was not offended i tried to console. "don't worry! i get real inappropriate when these pants come off!". it was too late to try and explain that i meant when my "work pants" came off. the damage was done.

i still can't make eye-contact.

have you seen the infomerical for the genie bra? a good name, for sure. a genie would have to grant you at least 3 desperate wishes to make your boobs look normal wearing that thing.

my ex-boyfriend is dating a girl who looks like jay leno wearing eyeliner. i am a horrible person for saying that outloud, but hey! jay leno is a very successful talk show host/car collector/man.

i sent a package to the german man who wanted to marry me. by package, i mean ESL book of american slang. by sent i mean i thought it would cost like 5 bucks. 18 bucks later i am asking myself why i did that. "to keep my options open" was the first response. but, after further thought "he's my only hope" is the correct answer.

im just kidding! a little bit.

the (8th grade) boyz (girls) next door (in fox valley christian academy's multi-purpose room)

my 8th grade drama class put on the production of "the boys next door".

you should be falling out of your seat laughing right now. if not, you don't know what the play is about.

alright, i'll tell you. it's about mentally handicaped men who live in a halfway house. in itself is not funny. but when you imagine ten, 13 year old girls playing the male leads...it becomes a whole new mockery.

i really do not understand how we were allowed to put this show on. annie, oliver, our town...all much more suitable for amateur 8th graders. we never even made our way through rehearsing the 2nd act. i remember standing backstage after intermission and wondering out loud "what happens next?". somehow, our lack of memorization carried through to spellbinding performances.

my grandmother, wo never compliments me, raved to all her friends about how good i was in my role. i played norman bulanksy. "a middle-aged retarded man who works at a doughnut shop. The doughnuts at his job have caused him to become overweight. He has a girlfriend, Sheila, a woman from another group home. He is very proud and possessive of a large ring of keys."

thanks grandma! type cast, i'm sure.

all this to say, i'm thinking about auditioning for a community theater performance. i know when the director sees i played the difficult role of norman, i'll be a shoe-in for whoever the most complex character is. crossing my fingers it can be a woman.

love suckz

i have a confession. a horrible one. one that puts me at jeopardy of loosing all my friends and secret blog admirers.

i watch the vampire diaries.

i promise,it started as a joke. my co-worker lent me the dvds in an attempt to win me over to her side. i mocked my way through the first 3 episodes. by the 4th, i found my self engrossed in the bloodsucking, unrealistic, overly dramatic, moderately poorly acted high school melodrama..

curse you, co-worker. you've created me to be the person i enjoy to ridicule.

i know i'm lame while i'm watching. i know i'm lame while i google "are vampires real?" i just can't stop being lame. it's a choice i am learning to live with. it's who i am now. i was born this way.

sexy santa greetings

right now there is an amazing promotion at a local jewelry dealer: buy an engagement ring--get a gun. you can put a whole new spin on "shotgun wedding"! bet those hicks are hittin' up the bee hive over on '76 lookin for anything with a tail feather so dey can get dat gun.

i walked in on my dad going to the bathroom a couple nights ago. it was horrible. it reminded me of the time he walked in on me after i had passed out naked in the same bathroom. i regained consciousness soon enough to warn him "no dad! you'll see my butt". didn't stop him. he was concerned for my safety.

speaking of my dad and nakedness, one of my favorite stories involves him, a homemade hot tub, below zero temperatures, and locking himself out of our house. and nakedness. the greatest story ever told (sorry jesus!).

my dad is the most interesting person i know. you would be lucky to meet him. he's wise, intelligent, awkward and very caring-- for his family and strangers alike. one time he picked up a homeless appleton man and took him and 10 year old me to BJ Clancey's. he asked clint what he needed--clint said prayer that he would get his life together. naturally, chuck asked me to pray for clint. "dear god, please help clint get his life together" has and always will be one of my best prayers.

the man who was sexually harassing me at work got fired. now what will i write about?

maybe i can write about my dad some more.

chuck has always had a heart for people in need. while visiting my sister and i in sandiego for christmas, he would wander the streets early in the morning, buying people coffees and making friends. he was very excited to find that there was a volunteer run school for homeless children right behind our house. he stopped in, got all the info he could and began planning how my sister and i could help.

burning with the fires of service, he discovered another unmarked building just across the street. with his keen eye, he noticed some seemingly homeless men venturing into it often. he was certain it was some sort of halfway house. he told us multiple times we should stop in and see if there was anything we could help with. we didn't know what it was, so we didn't go in. but chuck... chuck was determined to uncover another service opportunity.

a few days later he returned from his early morning expedition. "well girls, i dont want you goin' into that building". chuck had apparently ventured in and was greeted by two men behind safety glass decorated with sexy santas. chuck began to put some dots together and began slowly backing out. not wanting to be rude, he made sure to ask "this isn't a homeless shelter, is it?" to which the muscular and friendly man behind the counter replied "no sir, this is a gentleman's bathhouse".

we couldn't help but google the "vulcan" and we couldn't help but giggle, thinking of poor old chas and the google reviews everytime we walked by.

raisins can be sexy, too.

i can't stop thinking about two things: nutty bars & sexy costumes.

let's get nutty bars out of the way first. all i want to say is that they are the most delicious treat to boast the little debbie name. i have no idea how debbie stays so little eating these bars of heaven, but whatever her secret is, i need to figure it out. i have one, and i instantly go up a size. im not complaining. it is worth it. a perfect amalgamation of chocolate, pb and wafer cookie. merci beaucoup, little debbie. i owe you big time.

now for sexy costumes. i hate them. i think they are embarrassing. some might argue that i am jealous. maybe you think i don't like them because i eat too many nutty bars and don't look as good in a victoria's secret football player "costume". maybe i am a little self concious that i have some swiss cake rolls...but they're paired with too much self worth to lower myself to wearing some sort of sexually degrading clothing option in public and pretend like its ok because people are dressing up in costumes. i made my point 3 Halloweens ago wearing my glasses and trench coat out downtown minneapolis. a sexy bee asked me what i was supposed to be. "a lesbian" is what i told her. she was confused, but i figured as much--she also forgot where she put her pants, shirt and dignity.

now, im not saying don't dress in a sexy costume, but let's try to remember there is a difference between sexy and skanky. there are plenty of options that don't reveal your bum cheeks and lady parts. i have a sweet ass raisin costume that is just waiting for someone to give it a modest yet sexy twist.

i don't want to judge. i don't want to condemn. wear what you want, sexy girls. just know, somewhere on those crowded drunken streets of sexy bees, cops and nurses, there is a chubby girl wearing a trench coat, eating a nutty bar and making fun of you.

sparklez in yur eyez

i cut my own bangs. someone told me if your forehead is 50% of your face, you should have some. i don't know if they took hair type into consideration, because if your hair is baby fine and extra stringy, the front bang looks more like a set of harp strings.

i can't wait to move away. i don't know where i am going, but i know its away from appleton, wisconsin. house i grew up in: i love you, but i don't love you that much. thank you for taking me in and sheltering me from bills, normal social activity and the opportunity to bring men home.

my phone is being held together by a rubber band. maybe i should get a new one, but i kinda like the excuse "sorry i didn't call you back--my phone is broken."

a homeless man with one tooth told me he knew my soul was happy. i asked him why and he said it was because i had sparkles in my eyes. that's funny--that's exactly what a man said to me when he asked "can i spend the night in your arms?" . good thing i never got transition lenses.

my boss told me i was very smart. then he asked if i was a cute drunk or an annoying drunk. i didn't know how to answer, and i also didn't know if it was against the law for me to answer. i'll ask my lawyer sister.

or maybe i'll ask my scientist freak sister the science of alcohol and drunkeness and answer with a very smart answer. maybe i'll just quit and move away.

the love of money is the root of all evil. the lack of money is the root of all evil as well. i would also like to contend that student loan repayment is the trunk of all evil while bags of kettle chips and movie tickets for one are the leaves.

felicity saves the day. felicity cuts her hair. an american girl adventure.

there is no torture worse in the world than not being able to sleep because you have a rascal flat's song stuck in your head. visions of sparkly jean jackets spread to nightmares.

i have wrinkles. i guess it's time to pull out that black umbrella and cower from the sun.

my dad is 64 and i think i have just as many wrinkles as he does. genetics, man. i seem to gather all the undesirable qualities from both sides. maybe my scientist sister could explain this to me.

I tried to make coconut macaroons yesterday. they are my favorite. i made a fatal mistake and they turned into coconut macaroon sloppy runny messes. i won't lie, i cried about it. chas lied and said "i kinda like 'em". macaroons are serious business, there is no room for mistakes. i picked myself up by my bootstraps, and binged on all the sweets we had in our house to make myself feel better. i know how to handle stress and disappointment very well.

the weather is just perfect. if i could live in a universe that was perpetually this weather, i would have all the felicity in the world. well, as long as i had a good macaroon to eat, too.

folie a duex's menage a trois iz gud.

have you ever consumed an entire bottle of red wine by yourself on a monday night?

have you ever spent 50 bucks on a ticket to spend an evening with garrison keillor?

have you ever had a secret crush on a boy you had one creative writing class with in high school and spoken to only once?

have you ever written things like this down for the world to see, and then realize you shouldn't have?

have you ever not cared what people think of you so much so that you would write a blog referencing a secret crush and other embarrassing things?

have you ever been tempted to take a 36 year old foreigner's offer to pay of your student loans and move to germany?

have you ever giggled non stop because you know the fact that you write a blog makes you pretty lame?

have you ever had a hourly wage job after a private liberal arts education because you refuse to enter the corporate world?

have you ever not know what you want to do with your future beyond not entering the corporate world, but feel bad because your parents spent a pretty penny on your education, but justify it with the fact that you won't have them pay for your wedding?

you most likely have. i was just curious.

snorky

men saying strange things to me seems to be a trend these past couple months.

yesterday, my 40 year old co-worker said I was his "first official old man crush"....but don't be creeped out, it's "mostly asexual". thank you. the worst compliment i have ever received.

when i was feeling sick the other day, my dad brought my dog over and put him in my bed. then he told me when he was a little boy and home sick his mom would go to neighboring farms and find a kitty or a puppy to put in bed with him. part of me cried a little because that was the cutest thing i've ever heard, and part of me was mad because chas never told me before. can't you just imagine little runny nose chas surrounded by little critters? i can, and it's precious.

im sure the reason he didn't tell me was because of my "heart for animals". at one point in my adolescence, i "rescued" 3 cats from the streets of neenah...who then became 6 cats. one's name was snorky...because of a chronic sinus infection she seemed to have. i loved her, but i think i was the only one...except shadow, who became the father of her children.

one day i came home and they were gone. through tears i asked chas where they could be. "couldn't handle it anymore" was his stoic response. now i laugh, but i was inconsolable then. lolcats.

36 books in the old testament, each one a special part.

sometimes you have no witty things to say. sometimes you feel a little down because you live in the city of your youth and seem to have been looking for a great job for a year without success. sometimes you open your neglected bible to the strangest name and find the perfect thing.

"though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yeild no food, the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places."

way to go, Habakkuk 3: 17-19.

kill the beast!

our power has been out for 4 days. thank god i have a new excuse for not showering.

today i wore my poofy vest as i sang a joni mitchell song and made a cup of tea on my camping stove. i felt rustic and natural. i also felt slightly lesbian. slightly because it was joni. if it was melissa ethridge i would have felt straight up les. come to my window.

me and waniel used to sing come to my window. we only knew those 4 words, but we would giggle about it each time.

one time an owl flew into my window and died. he layed on my quasi-porch for a good three days before uncle leroy (megon's orchid's namesake) pushed it off to its quasi-burial with a broom.

uncle leroy and uncle david used to spend some bachelor days at our house when we were younger. i would sneak into their room and get into bed with them wearing only my underwear. don't think too much about that, please. the important part of the story is that when my parents told me i couldn't do that i cried and said i wanted to "be a "barbarabum" like uncle leroy." see, it's not creepy. it's cute. right? right?

a 40 year old man told me the other day "if you were 20 years older, i'd be trying to make you smile". then he gently adjusted the collar of my shirt. let me tell you something, sir... you have some work to do to make me smile, but you perfected the act of making me shudder.

i touched waniel once and he shuddered. i was so offended. he said he was just startled. i couldn't help but sing the song from beauty and the beast. he shuddered at my paw.

i was actually wondering the other day what belle called "the beast" after his transformation...do you know? crooked nose, ugly prince would work...but it just dosn't have that special ring like beast. c'mon walt! don't leave me hangin'. I guess i should rent beauty and the beast III or whatever straight to DVD sequel i can find. they will have the answers.

want to buy my mom's old underwear?

i never thought i would be an old spinster at the age of 25.

if you need me i'll be busy buttoning up my black victorian dress with eye-hook buttons all the way up the back. perhaps lacing my pointy witch shoes too? i've already mastered the homely bun.

i missed the fantasy football draft chaos. i hope i got my picks. reggie white and warren moon are great players.

i just became a packer fan. i don't know what i was waiting for...i was always slightly disturbed by the lack of attention important world news got on our local stations during packer season. many of you remember the day the horrible tsunami hit--those of us in wisconsin remember that as the day reggie white died. oh shit! there goes my defense pick!

i just swore on the internet. i hope my private higher institution job options don't find this and kick me out of their hiring pools. i hope my mom doesn't google me and feel disappointed.

i've always thought it would be funny to make my own girls gone wild video. not the joe francis R rated drunk college girl version, but just lots of girls being wild. like messy hair, running around screaming and eating giant legs of meat wild. i think it might be my million dollar idea.

im always trying to think of million dollar ideas. i used to write scripts for america's funniest home video entries. that failed because we didn't have a camcorder. or a tv. then i thought i would create decorative pieces called "underwear angels" using my mothers old mom underwear. they were pretty, but the market for used underwear decorations wasn't as big as i imagined. when my college radio show didn't get picked up for syndication i fell back onto the rich older man option. i'm too shy for that, so for now i guess i will hope for some sort of lawsuit settlement possibility.

only we will know

tonight i was driving myself home and singing (sans music) at the top of my lungs to a song from funny girl. i decided at the finale that it's time i put myself back on the market. and by" put myself back on the market" i mean never sing a barbara streisand song ever again.

the other day we had a chipmunk sneak into our house. we lost track of it until i spotted it on the inside of our open window. naturally i found a big cardboard box and told my dad to slowly shut the window, trapping it in the box. chas had other plans and pushed me aside. as he lowered the window the lil dude freaked out and tried to get to freedom. i didn't think chas was still so sharp with his motor skills, but our little friend was accidentally beheaded. i saw it all and let me tell you something. that was the first and last execution i ever want to see. chas was pretty down about it. "i didn't mean to kill him. he was an adolescent". he never laughed. i've worked my way to a chuckle here and there, but it will forever haunt me. i will never open that window again.

you know how i always joke about a rich older man saving me from all my problems? well, the opportunity presented itself last week and i cracked under pressure. cracked doesn't even describe it. i was sweaty, awkward, uncomfortable and full of self doubt. sure, it sounds like me at the Y, but this was in regular clothes. i've learned my lesson though. if anyone offers to buy me things or pay of my student loan ever again i will quit my job and tell my family sorry. so many regrets. so many loans. jkjkjkjkjkjkjkjkjk, but not really at all.

i had a phone interview today. wahoo. i was sweaty, awkward, uncomfortable and full of self doubt. i'll let you know if i get the job!

im sitting in my underwear wondering who the next person will be to sit on this couch. they will have no idea 1/2 my butt touched it. but you will. and so will i.

red alert

i have some great stories for you. you will not want to miss them.

i shall title them "monsieur la guilliotine" and "the week a man from germany loved me".

stay tuned.

top recommendations for you

and so we meet again, netflix.

i really don't know what i would do without you sometimes. when im too lazy to read, write, or eat, i turn to you and squint very hard to watch your abundance upon my itouch screen.

8 bucks for unlimited streaming is so worth it. some recommendations? strictly ballroom. wet hot american summer. masterpiece:sherlock (PBS ya'll) the portland ballet's nutcracker (but only if you want to have nightmares forever about the godfather clockmaker).

i can tell when my sister uses my account because my "top recommendations for sonia" switches from "mind bending indie" to "love stories with a strong female lead". not that i dont enjoy made for TV movies staring joshua jackson...but i swear it wasn't me.

one time i had too many adult beverages and called tom s. and gave him my netflix password. i think. i don't know if he's used it, but i hope he has. for 8 bucks a month, i can spare to give a little bit of love away.

maybe tom has a thing for joshua j? i'll let you know next time i call him after 3 years of not seeing him to tell him to watch a movie on my netflix.

skuttlebutt

i just finished a super secret wine and cheese party. the guest list was short, only one attendee...but she was VIP, for sure.

in this strange time of life i've been trying to fill my solitude with things i highly enjoy. things i forget to do when the worlds agenda takes priority. i finally bought a new record player to listen to all my records that have been waiting patiently for a spin for the past 3 years. buying bottles of wine for pure pleasure, rather than a party or gift. getting fancy cheeses and olives because i feel like it. buying hardcover books. reading a lot. basically, yes, i am a middle aged woman who enjoys listening to NPR and watching the create channel. no wonder the men who are interested happen to be in that category as well. im not complaining. i like older men. they're together for the most part, appreciate the things i do, plus they don't think i'm a complete weirdo. the only boy i've ever met who wasn't 40 but still had the same qualities is adam kraus. he doesn't count though. he's like a sister to me.

im happy to report my toe numbness has subsided. chas cured me with a father-daughter foot rub. unfortunately a vein issue has returned. i guess i also have a thing for middle aged ailments too.

im ready for an adventure. i hope its not one that requires me to move across the country twice in 6 months, but i guess i'll take that if it presents itself. i love change and movement. i love new people and new places. i love music and food and vhs tapes and boys who shower sparingly. i love spicy food and funny books. i love making lists of things i like because its much better for me than thinking about all the things i hate. except for shots. i hate shots. so so much.

i like reading things i forgot i wrote...like this:

nothing makes a woman feel sexier than waking up to a pimple-like rash covering her face. on second thought, nothing makes a woman feel sexier than slathering cortizone cream all over her face due to a pimple-like rash. man, i feel so sexy today. i take everything back. the sexiest i have ever felt is when my 11th grade gym teacher told me i had more testosterone than the average woman. good one, gym teacher. good one. sexy is not really a term i would associate myself with. not only because i am a testosterone filled, rash prone person, but because the word itself makes me uncomfortable. to be honest, i'm pretty sure i thought it was a bad word up until i was 17. i can bet 10 bucks i never said it, along with the word pregnant, unless it was part of a classroom reading.

i remember that rash day...s. word spread around work "oh, i heard someone had a rash!" "man! it's worse than she said". I guess i'd rather be the focus of work place scuttlebutt because of a rash rather than a inappropriate break room liaison. there is still time to change my mind. i've never had a workplace liaison.

i've only had one boyfriend. i've only kissed one boy. well, 3...but a half-assed game of 25 year old spin the bottle and kisses equal to foreign greetings don't really count. or do they? i'm saying no, but you're welcome to challenge me.

2 boys tried to kiss me in high school. who in their right mind would let a high school boy kiss them? they most likely had braces and little pieces of cheetos stuck up in there. no thank you. even when i was 16, i thought 16 year olds were dumb. or maybe i thought they were gross. hard to tell. my hygiene was better then. higher standards, no doubt.

i never liked no doubt. my go to girl was always alanis. fiona too, but you know alanis would never let a high school boy kiss her either. she did let uncle joey though. maybe i need to reconsider my go to girl.

moonface sent me to the moon

on a likert type scale of 1-10, how cool are you if you do karaoke by yourself? depending on your rating system, i'm either a 1 or a 10.

sarah moonface is in town. some may also know her as my sister sarah. you know, the genius girl with a big face like a moon. whenever people made fun of the size of her head, she just said she had a bigger brain. she and i used to call ourselves pinky and the brain. i was okay being pinky then...but now as i have grown and matured, i realize the brain is the important one. pinky's just there for the 5-12 year old laughs. type-cast, i guess.

sarah moonface used to torture me when we were little. once she told me i could fly and i tried flapping my wings from the piano to the couch. landed on the piano bench and have a scar memento. another time she strapped me to a rocking chair, put a metal colander on my head and tipped me backwards "sending me to the moon". another instance she tied a plastic jump rope around my waist and had me "bungee jump" off our 2nd floor railing. she told me i had rabies because i was frothing from the mouth. she was the only one who knew the chipmunk i had caught bit me a few weeks back (still paranoid about that). she also would shove me in the bottom of the sleeping bag when she would ride it down the stairs. sisters are friends forever.

maybe the word torture is a bit too extreme. i was a wild girl, willing to be sent to space and attempt living room flight. my scraggly head of hair growing to a point down my usually bare back was a signal that i could not be tamed. sarah was the only ringmaster willing to take on the challenge. im glad she did. im glad for the memories, the scars and the stories. i'm glad i can get my hair cut evenly now and that we are friends who are very different, but still love each other very very much.

i just went to say goodnight and i love you to moonface when i caught her watching a Japanese mockumentry. i love her more now. a smart, talented, beautiful and unique woman who loves cheese and the obscure humor netflix has to offer as much as i do. i'm so proud she's mine and i'm so happy she's home.

ankle length t-shirt

today i ventured down the trendy road of maxi dresses. i felt good, comfortable and most importantly modest. someone woman ruined it all by coming up to me and asking "i hope you don't mind me asking, but is that a shirt?" yes, stranger. i do mind you insinuating that i am a midget and thus able to use a shirt as a floor length dress. i said that it was of course not a shirt and then she asked how much i had to have it altered.

my toes have been numb for almost 2 weeks now. i got worried at the Y today, amongst all the "silver sneakers" that i could be experiencing some sort of type II diabetes symptom. i shrugged it off, happy that if i did die there, i would be surrounded by my peers.

i just finished my 10th day in a row of work. major woof. a big part of this woof involves a certain new uniform that may or may not consist of a men's shiny, copper vest and tie. when chuck says it looks unfortunate, you know it must be really, really bad.

when we were little, we would put together the most unfortunate outfits and ask chuck his opinion...just to see how poor his style judgement was. either he's becoming more fashionable, or this thing is so horrendously ugly it could make paula poundstone look like coco channel. i hope you know who paula poundstone is.

lastborn tween

i blame my mild attraction to snape on alan rickmans fantastic portrayal of col. brandon in the ang lee directed "sense and sensibility". even with the black middle part, i cant help but wonder what sort of thrills i would experience with his sexy bubbled snarl ringing in my ear. i'll never know for sure, but my quest to knowledge has always involved watching S&S at least 5 times a year.

im a major tween these days. my parents picked me up from work, i ran to buy the latest tween book and i saw harry potter twice. i do adult things like pay bills and drink wine in between, but there is no denying the heavy adolescent undertones in my day to day life. must be a last born thing. i blame everything on my birth-order.

i used to be obsessed with the birth-order phenomonon. i still am fulling supportive to the theory. im mostly interested in which orders marry the others. any first borns looking for a little attention seeking, checkered academic career holding, affectionate, fun loving and irresponsible last born partner? i'm sure it sounds perfect, but i admit to some flaws.

sometimes i cry myself to sleep. sometimes it's because of my tween book and other times its because i feel completely overwhelmed from feelings of underwhelming. i wonder how some people have such a clear definition of who they are and what they should do when they are only 20 something...while other last born like me feel disoriented and disconnected to everything that is a "should be". these feelings are always solved with a bag of kettle chips. and hours of introspection, meditation, mediation, prayer, reflection and intersession. and tween books.

its so hot that my face is melting off. im not talking about a makeup face, but my actual face. my nose is somewhere between michael jackson and lord voldemort. with that final tween reference, ive outstayed my welcome on my own blog. goodnight.

this one is for you, kate.

an anonymous friend told me she checks my blog every day and that i needed to write more. first of all, i am very flattered! secondly, you are a looser!

i would know a thing or two about loosers. i may or may not have just went to a movie by myself. of course, that itself does not make me a looser. it was the going an hour before hand and sitting pretzel legged behind a velvet roped waiting line. crying at the previews for a great looking horse movie. crying throughout the film. i couldn't decide if i was emotional about the story, or because the older man sitting next to me kept chortling up some sort of snot. we'll never know. all i can tell you is i give monte carlo two thumbs way up!

my 2nd toe has been numb for the past couple days. there are three possible causes: early onset of type II diabetes. dance related injury. work-out related injury. while all three seem very possible, the only one i can really do anything about is the last one. it's been a good run, 4 runs! if only you would have helped me instead of harmed me. type II will thank us both later.

time to go finish my latest tween book craze. it can't be totally tween though--the author of twilight gave it a shining review. she knows a thing or two about young adult fiction (very different from tween).

send max to space

i dont really have anything to mention in this post. i guess i should say something worthwhile...so i'll let you know i ate a snickers bar and two hershey bars tonight. NBD. i was going to go work out at the Y...but you know how things go. one chocolate leads to another...

for the next two weeks i am housesitting for a bulimic cat. im sure there will be stories to share then, until then i suggest watching the movie Space Camp for all of your entertainment needs.

nights in white chocolate (or the blog i wrote laughing)

im not in the mood to blog. im not in the mood to reach into my back pocket and pull out some mildly amusing story. im not in the mood to go to three thousand weddings by myself and sit between all my married or heavily involved friends. im also not in the mood to use my moms facebook to look at my ex-boyfriends profile. im not in the mood, but i do it just the same.

it appears im in the mood to be moody.

the moody blues is a great band. nights in white satin was such a good song they made a coldstone ice cream flavor based on it. nights in white chocolate is not as good as the song. i prefer birthday cake remix.

birthday cake remix is the flavor me and said ex-boyfriend overdosed on when we found a bunch of coupons for free like-it sized coldstone treats. i found the coupons in a dumpster. i also found that i gained about 10 pounds during that sweet season of life.

my weight fluctuates more than the GOP's presidential candidate approval rating. when youre 5 feet tall, weight fluctuation matters.

my ex-boyfriend once told me i needed to loose weight. i didn't take it kindly. he wasn't my boyfriend at the time, but he was trying to win his way back into my heart. it didn't work well in his favor. i should have told him "YOU MADE ME THIS WAY" as i shoved birthday cake remix all over my face through tears...but i went with the silent treatment instead. it lasted for about 2 minutes. i don't remember what fantastic response i had at the time, but im sure it was along the ever popular "tell me something i dont know". don't worry. he apologised later. and also, dont worry, im actually over it. i promise.

90 percent of anyone who reads this is friends with the mysterious "ex boyfriend". dont tell him i wrote this or he'll never talk to me again. oh wait, never mind....that's already the situation. omg. what if he's reading this...i bet hes not though. hes too busy studying to read blogs...or return calls, or return contact of any form. lolololololz.

i dont have many regrets in my life (that is a lie that everyone says) but i am 98% sure i will regret this blog. i hope i learn a lesson through it, or at least that it makes someone smile.

let's try and lessen the regret. i'll be serious for a moment. my ex-boyfriend is a wonderful person. one of my all time favorite human beings. he's been my best friend for more than 6 years and i hope we can be friends after all this change and weirdness passes by. hes smart and funny and talented and compassionate and even though he told me i needed to loose weight once, hes one of the nicest people in the world. im lucky to know him and to call him my ex boyfriend without any horrible things to say, or swear words to associate with his title. if you are reading this, exboyfriend, im sure your new gf is kewl. just dont take her to coldstone every other day.

and you were right, i did need to loose weight.

badest man in the whole damn town

My dad referred to me as a "he" the other day. I guess it's not that bad considering he once called my sister dennis. we don't even know a dennis. i always told myself i was the son chas never had. in fact, they took me out early expecting me to be a 12 pound boy. sorry to disappoint, chas. call me a he all you want.

one time i had a horrible headache and we didn't have any medicine in the house. chas said he found a first aid kit while cleaning in the basement. i asked how old it was. he said brand new. the medicine expired before i was born.

speaking of mistaken identities, i've been tempted to look up the man whose white mini-van i accidentally stole my freshman year. if anyone remembers the poor unfortunate mans name, let me know. i bet he's still wondering how his ride went from heritage lot to so-ho. sucker.

calling all hawties! if you're interested in being my date to aprox. 3,000 weddings, please apply via facebook message. on second thought, screw the application. the only requirement is that you do not consider a dress shirt tucked into basketball shorts "fancy clothes". i am an equal opportunity employer.

people constantly tell me how short i am. im an easy going gal, so i don't offend when you call me a munchkin, short fry or midget. but, please! it is never ok to tell someone they are shorter than danny divito. pure heartbreak. the unforgivable sin. (for the record, i am two inches taller and much more attractive. he is, however, damn good in its always sunny. to that, i will never compare.)

my parents bought a karaoke machine at a rummage sale. life is good when you find your 62 year old father singing about two counts behind to bad,bad leroy brown. he still has a long way to go, but i am very excited for when he is ready to preform lady gaga's bad romance. tickets will be sold. popcorn will be popped. biggest show to hit the valley in years. look out.

goodbye, my little cabbage.

people say they miss my blog. sorry about that. 12 hours of sleep is very important to me.

i have a job. that's all i'll say for now.

yesterday on my way to said job, i saw the single greatest thing in the world: a man jogging wearing an entirely denim outfit. everyone knows how much i like jean on jean (especially when the washes are the same) but add that to uncomfortable physical activity and you have brought jean on jean to a whole new level. i will never forget 5/12/2011. thank you denim jogger.

my beverage consumption is up by at least 50%. my adult beverage consumption is down by at least 90%, unless you are like ann malmquist and consider coffee an adult beverage. if that's the case, i'll go ahead and say i drink a butt-load of coffee.

speaking of butt-loads, what does that mean? is a butt some sort of measuring tool? shouldn't we say colon-load? i won't argue about it too much, as it is a staple in my vocab, but you'll never see me measuring out ingredients for cookies using my butt...that is for sure.

adios, ma petit chou.

bowel movement blockage

you know you're living a productive life when you spend a majority of the afternoon researching breast reduction surgery. i was interested and ok with everything until the line "your surgeon will take a photograph of your breasts". i am not that kind of girl!

i most likely shouldn't share things like that with you, but, i don't know who "you" are, so i don't care. (I do care though, if you are a practicing surgeon who would be willing to take on a "pro-bono case .)

i had a traumatic experience yesterday. my dog came in looking highly uncomfortable and unable to sit. upon further investigation i discovered a bowel movement had become trapped and hard in a jumble of hair. because of this "blockage" he was unable to produce more. there were tears, rubber gloves, emergency baths and a quick butt-hair cut. i am happy to report that after a sleepless night, the tail is wagging again.

my dad just came into our computer room to proof read my latest and greatest cover-letter. what makes this moment special? he's wearing his C-PAP machine.

i've stopped wearing deodorant. the only reason being that i can't find mine. ok, even when i know where it is, i don't use it. too much effort, not enough results. i'm all about results.

melted jesus

He has risen! Risen, indeed. Unless of course you are eating a resurrection roll. then He has been consumed. consumed, indeed.

let's be frank for a minute. resurrection rolls: delicious and a little bit disturbing. c'monn kids. let's stuff a marshmallow in a dinner roll and pretend it's jesus. then bake it at 350 degrees for 15 minutes and eat it up.

to be fair, i certainly do "remember Him" when i eat this bread.

i'm feeding my dog nerds, you'd better come out and pound me

my oldest sister is currently in the process of sending some dead fish from her lab to france. she is struggling with the customs forms. my middle sister has just finished her final exams in law school and is starting to prepare for the multi-state bar. i am finishing the second disc of mad men and feeding my dog nerds.

i know feeding a dog nerds isn't healthy, but it is so cute.

i woke up this morning thinking about artwork in coffee shops. ok, unknown artist from some liberal arts college. sure, i'll pay 500 bucks for a 8 x 10 acrylic attempt at cubism. who needs an art dealer when you have your local coffee shop?

i used to hate coffee. i remember buying a white chocolate mocha from marketplace and having to buy a snickers in the vending machine to melt in it because it tasted "like poop". my oh my. time and taste buds have certainly changed. it could have been my 17 hour work days with high schoolers, but man...my stained teeth do love the warm acidic buzz i get from that smooth cup of liquid beans.

old people always comment on my teeth. "OH MY! they are so big and beautiful!" "what perfect big teeth!" "you have such lovely teeth." pretty much the only physical compliment i get, but it reminds me of a story.

one day my sister was working in the medical center. let's get one thing straight. this sister does not share my ample bosom. with that being said...as she was working, a man walked by and did a double take. "oh my god! they're so big!" she was uncomfortable as he continued. "are they real? they are huge!" as she shrunk back she gained the courage what he was talking about. "you're canines! they're so big!" good one, man at the medical center.

personal

SWF seeks M.

extreme knowledge in all things minutia & ability to win all trivia games is highly desired. personal hygiene not expected. prefer those fashioned in crew neck sweatshirts and corduroy pants. ability to comment on how cute dogs are is a plus. humor appreciated, as is the knowledge that quoting dumb & dumber, tommy boy and wedding crashers is not humor. fans of public radio and television programs, james taylor, john denver and other 60-something singer songwriters given special consideration. no polos, gelled hair or lady gaga fans, please.

please submit a short and personal cover letter, resume and an 8x10 glossy picture of yourself (including your body) to be considered.

breast strokes in shallow bandaids

some things bring me back to a very magical time of my life. freshman year of high school. i'd like to recount some of them for you now.

i heard a strokes song today and i flashed to playing "this is it" on repeat while we floated in an above ground pool on jon street in neenah. When I say we, i refer to the dynamic duo of roxanne ashton agusta patty butler and myself. (her discovering that she had 3 middle names is still a highlight of my life).

i have never in my life participated in more innocent shenanigans than in that time. prank calling gym teachers was old news, so we called KISS FM when their recording device was broken and said something inappropriate about Nelly liking little boys in our best "candy man" voice. don't worry, we have an audio tape recording of the DJ giving us a stern talking to.

i don't think i was ever cooler than i was that year. staying late after school with a tape recorder, pretending we had to do interviews for a class was a wonderful excuse to mingle with the odd assortment of individuals left after the bells rang in the menagerie that was neenah high school. magic players, STAND members, unfortunate teachers (and that hot boy who didn't shower much).

riding the bus and buying a bag of regular and cool ranch doritos, watching requiem for a dream, little big man, or say anything at least once a week was required. some days we'd skip the movie and lay on the floor listening to the strokes, or radiohead...maybe a james taylor album for good measure instead.

we made our own morbid music videos to alanis and rescued a litter of bunnies found where the above ground pool was being put. slowly they all died--lt. dan, simon birch, and others named for their maladies. one was released into the wild...we'll never know if that one made it.

we strapped her cats into her paralyzed brothers stair machine. and i learned about the "real world" from that machine and the brother that used it. her mother was usually naked when i'd come over. perhaps in the company of some interesting fellow she met at an AA meeting.

we both failed CPR certification due to our inability to preform rescue breaths without making our dummies talk to our poor mister kreiger. he hated us, but i made him smile once. he got me back by making me practice strokes on the pool deck, among dirty bandaids.

i peed in my pants at least 8 times because of her. one time in my choir dress, alone on the bus. i have never laughed so hard in my life. except for maybe the drunk ewoks on the today show video. that is good.

my dad said we were kindred spirits. two peas in an "unromantic pod". she's off living the life of a vagabond on the west coast and i'm living the life of a vegetable in my parents home. our pod is stretched, but i'd like to think we're still peas.

coming soon: my personal ad and a reflection on a 6 year relationship. these posts may or may not be related.

timez r hard 4 dreamerz

i haven't had sugar in 10 days. perhaps, an accomplishment many could boast, but almost unthinkable for this lover off all things refined and syrup'd. my ideal meal would be heapings of fresh fruits and vegetables, followed by a jug of dew and 15 pounds of gummies from the candy aisle of cub foods.

the first three days i was a monster. i swear my eyes were green. i found some caramel corn in our pantry and put a piece in my mouth "to remember what sugar tasted like" and in a rage spit it into the garbage, screamed, tore my clothes and beat my breast. what is pushing me on? lack of dental insurance and a cavity prone mouth. dr. joe, this one is for you!

last night was purely torture as i helped reprice all the candies at VandeWalles. i made it without licking or smelling anything. PROGRESS. YES WE CAN.

the weather is hurting my feelings. i crave sunshine and bugs. warm days and camping adventures. the ability to go days with unkempt hair and soccer shorts while eating everything good and beautiful from tinfoil tents put in the fire pit.

thinking of camping made me think of the single most terrifying moment of my life. it happened in yellowstone national park. driving up a windy road high above the tree tops, greeted by a SUV on one side and a raging buffalo running straight towards me. i let words out of my mouth i never thought i would. in front of my mother. i apologized immediately and i knew it was ok when she said "i think it was situation appropriate." thanks annie.

i'm moving to montana.

me and my dog soul-gazed today. while laying in my parents bed.

i'm not actually moving to montana, although i wish i was. if i had a friend there i would take advantage of their hospitality and live on their couch until i got an hourly job at some restaurant named "the fry'n pan" or something of unfortunate similarity.

a girl can dream.

ganglion dedication

last night i couldn't sleep. my dog had a bad odor about him... but i still wanted him near me. in revelation, i thought to myself "this must be what it's like to have a husband! they smell horrible, but you still want them close." since i've already perfected my needlework and fruit preserve techniques, sleeping next to a stinky dog is the obvious next step in preparing me to be a wife. i'm all about preparation.

well, my giant ganglion cyst makes typing slightly uncomfortable. look at how i suffer for my craft! (or "i have nothing else to do" hobby.) I hope my dedication leaves you in awe until next time.

ROTFL

my 3 day trip turned into a 7 + 3 day trip. I knew it was time to go home when I couldn't button my jeans. Nothing says "turn back" like those judgmental pink teeth marks of shame around your belly.

i love salt. i've loved it since i was a child. i have fond memories of pouring handfulls of table salt in my hand at hardees, or sneaking out to the garage to lick my bunnie's salt block. my sweetest (or should i say, saltiest) memory is when my dad would bring a bag of water softening salt home from fleet farm. ready to burst with excitment, i would sit at the top of our basement steps waiting for him to bring me a big crystal of affirmation. nothing says "i love you" like a big hunk of sodium chloride.

nothing says "unfortunate" more than a wet hair middle part.

nothing says "lame" like this blog.

i apologize. i promise to be better next time.

holding on to a piece of frozen metal

my dog caught my illness. he works hard as my companion and how to i repay him? by giving him some sort of human/dog virus. i showed my love to him by cleaning up his vomit. it wasn't that bad at all, compared to picking up his poop on the living room floor.

he's still cute. i love watching him "casually play" around our property line, waiting for his girlfriend to come out. i think the cool, coy attitude works--she let's him sniff her butt whenever he wants. you can learn a lot about relationships from dogs.

late at night, dog by my my side, my mind comes alive with hypothetical conversations and situations. i can be up till daybreak having 12 different conversations with the same person about something that could possibly never even happen. is it positive stimulation of my imagination or the beginnings of schizophrenia? eh, whatever. same thing.

i do not recommend watching "the way we were" if you are slightly emotional about a relationship. i also do not recommend watching the oprah show babs and redford reunion either. there is no way to feel stable while crying as you watch 70 year olds hugging and talking about the way they were on set.

well, you can start sending your combo congrats/sympathy cards my way. i'd rather hear "no" than "we chose you for the position but then the girl who left decided she wanted to come back." silver lining? no unflattering suit jacket for my ample top.

looks like i'll be searching for employment on craigslist. i mostly use it for "casual encounters" so it might be a hard switch, but i'm willing to try it.

i'm ashamed, but sisterchrister had to remind me of a very special birthday today. way to go, harry houdini. to celebrate, i will go to his museum downtown and pay an absurd amount of money to do magic tricks and see how long i can hold onto a frozen piece of metal. if i sound cynical, i'm not. it really was some of the best money i've spent in the valley...next to buying every flavor of kenny's licorice at woodmans and hanging out at funset blvd.

harry houdini died from appendicitis. coincidentally, ever since my aunt pam had her appendix out when i was 10 it has been my hypocondriatic nightmare. webmd page is bookmarked and memorized.

tomorrow i'm hitchin up the ole' wagon and headin' to the big city. ma, pa and mary are stayin home to see if Doc Baker can help cure mary's blindness. maybe they'll go buy some candy sticks from nelly at the mercantile. i would be jelly, but manley promised to introduce me to his sister, miss beadle. (and this concludes "the only show i ever watched until i was 14 was little house on the prairie.")

when the snow hit the ground, i found myself in a pickle. part of me was angry, and the other part...the student representative for bethel university's green council and the haphazard president of creation restoration felt very very guilty for having such negative thoughts towards mother earth. im so sorry-- how can i prove my love to you creation? maybe i will try to organize a school wide rummage sale with profits going towards a new composter, but the night before the big event someone will take down all the posters and tell us that they do not allow for any type of "money making" sale to be held on campus. maybe i will think of something better.

improving your handicap

man, i'm on a roll with this blog. it could be due to the lack of effort it takes to not capitalize or properly punctuate anything, but regardless i'm proud of my self and my diligence in publicly shaming my family and self!

i asked an old professor to write me a recommendation letter. she said yes and that i would be "great, but scary" at the job. trying to figure out if she meant hanible lecter scary or scary spice scary is not worth the effort. either way, i'll take it as a compliment. i always thought anthony hopkins was cute.

my 401k lump sum check is floating around somewhere in the USPS system. if you find an envelope that has at least 4 different forwarding addresses for me on it, please contact me and i will offer you a hefty percentage for it's safe return. you're looking at four or five bucks my friend . in hard times, every dollar counts.

i read espn's "everything you need to know about march madness". i'm still as lost as ever. i like college basketball (as long as it's not womens) but there is just something about sir charles barkley's commentary that leaves me questioning everything i ever knew about the sport. i don't know much, but i get so distracted by his slurred and incoherent speech thinking he must be having a stroke that i can't enjoy a simple game of putting a ball in a hoop. march sadness.

i love cinderella stories. my friend meg might think i'm talking about disney. that's understandable because when a barnes and noble employee suggested she get her golf loving father the book "improving your handicap" she had to let them know "oh, no. sorry, my dad isn't disabled."

natural casing wieners

ABC wanted to compete with college basketball, so they played a movie that every demographic would enjoy. Norbit, obviously. i'd liked to check out the neilsen ratings for tonight! i would bet the fee for withdrawing my 401k early that more the viewing audience tonight + the number of people who actually saw it less than 401

super moon was tonight. i texted five people and one responded. im sure the other five were busy looking at the moon that didn't really look that different.

i got a "call back" today for an interview i had yesterday. it was exactly the same as yesterday except i had sweatier pits. (i'll blame it on the mildly attractive middle age man.)

have you ever listened to a cd and felt like every song was written because someone secretly drugged you and did futuristic tests that could determine what you feel and think? adele's 21 is that for me. i've never been so tempted to make a copy and send it to "someone special"... but that would go against everything i believe in and support everything i've made fun of for the past 10 years.

i've been doing really poorly at making fun of people lately. maybe i'm becoming nicer or maybe i've been sick and shut inside my house for the past 2 weeks.

tonight my dad made us beer brats. the beer was found under a park bench in lutz park in appleton. an old let them know they could take them because they had been there "for a few days". they were one step up from the hot dogs chuck made a few days ago. i was concerned they were the "gross, slippery kind...possibly made from actual dogs" but he scoffed and proudly whipped out the package. "i got da natural casing wieners"...as if that made them sound any more appetising. i still ate them...i'm into natural things.

a short survey

the raised red spots on my hands and arms are:

a. spider or bug bites

2. an allergic reaction to the medicine i am "borrowing" from my cousin

my future is in your hands.

1/2 off your pedicure

i do not condone sharing perscription medication of any kind ever, but thanks cousin cali for the anti-biotics. (i gave up my birkinstocks for sexy pointy shoes now).

feeling moderately better and ready to take on the world of part time employment.

i used to hate when i'd bump into someone and they ask me "what do you do". i'd always give an awkward pause while i considered telling them what i actually really do (baths, take naps with dogs, think about what kind of job i want) or some sort of professional excuse.

until about a month ago i was embarrassed by my lack of employment. now i am thankful. (warning this next sentence is going to be serious.) Because of my "unfortunate situation (s) " i have had life changing and powerful self-reflection, introspection and personal healing. (serious part is over now.) i might be poor and lacking some sort of business suit status, but i know i have all the important things. the most important being my john denver and the muppets christmas album.

am i getting smarter or is jeopardy getting easier? and have you watched college week? more like weak week! where do i sign up? i'll just slip into my boxy bethel sweatshirt and sneak my way to being a thousandaire.

while we're talking about thousands, PTL my tax refund came. i was starting to collect all my gift cards in hopes the student loan gods would accept them as a sacrifice, as i dont have a baby lamb or first born son. good thing i didn't have to...i NEED the logo sweatshirt from aeropostatle.

i just took off my toenail polish from my birthday. 12/31. those ladies did a real good job. i should have known they were legit when they offered the man with one leg 1/2 off a pedicure. (that is a true story).

i have a pocket of fluid behind my eye

i don't remember the last time i was this sick.

if i could go to the doctor, i would. that is how serious i am.

since i can't, i will do my best to help keep at least 6 homeopathic companies in business. (homeopathic=what people who don't have health insurance use). Between my sinus rinses, medicinal herbal teas and zinc therapy tabs I am looking online for birkinstock clogs and parting my hair down the middle while wearing earth friendly and i'll fitting bamboo clothing.

i have lost my appetite. this is the worst thing of all. i saw a sour gummy worm, lovingly touched it for a fleeting moment and then shuddered at the thought of chewing it.

i've taken a couple baths and while i layed completely stretched out it finally set in that i really haven't grown at all since 5th grade. downside: i'm the height of a 5th grader. upside: my baths are very comfortable. you decide the winner.

speaking of winning, charlie sheen.

i actually have no clue why those two things go together but according to every facebook status update and media news report, they do.

and while i'm on the subject of charlie could we please ask where the heck is emilo estavez? if we're talking winning it's him, not his brother we should be talking about. did you see the mighty ducks movies? i think riding the coattails of his brothers destruction could be a great career move for him. MD4!

my dog just stole all my snotty keenex and had an afternoon snack. i asked my dad why he did that. "cause of the salty flavor" was the mater of fact answer. i finally understand why that boy in 2nd grade rolled his boogers and ate them. sorry to judge. i prefer sweets.

loosing.

guess who's back? back again.

Sonia's back, tell a friend.

Seriously, tell a friend. I need a couple more.

I'm not trying to slam my cool parent friends, but there is something special about interacting with people your own age once and again. Until then, you'll find me listening to my dad read his bird book aloud and helping my mom work the printer.

If you are smart you took that last sentence and figured out I live at home. I'm not ashamed. I'm 25.

Slight delusions have begun with me and my dog. When he falls asleep in my lap I start braiding his hair and calling him my beautiful princess. I hope he can't hear me.

Watching women's college basketball (gross, i know) makes me revisit my glory dayz at Fox Valley Christian Academy. My favorite memory being when my calves started seizing and I had to be taken onto the carpeted stage and stretched in front of everyone. My second favorite memory being that one time we won a game.

I've been sick as a dog for the past week. My mother and I shared some dessert together and she infected me with her virus. We wear matching terry-cloth bathrobes and shower only sparingly (so, that part isn't so different). It hasn't been so bad except for the part where I can't breath normally without the aide of a humidifier. Now I just need to go back in time and have 7 year old Dee rub vap-o-rub on my pre-pubescent chest.

This typing has exhausted me. Don't worry, I'll be back to publicly share my life with you. Unless I get more friends.