newzflash

i've been on a blogging hiatus cause i've been super busy texting teenz. i can tell you what ily means, how to flash yo lazy duces, and the eptimology of the word bae. one day soon i'll get some white lipstick and a blond curly do, and try to convince the high school that my name is josie gheller and that i'm a high school student.

here is a quick update on all things me:

accidently pulled sexy underware out of my bag onto the dunn brothers counter.
crashed my car into a rock and now have a red bumper.
got my heart broken by a boy-became an evil monster-then let it go like elsa told me to.
live in a basement (again)
eat random packaged foods that people donate as snacks for highschoolers as my meals.

more on all these things and more later. off to push the dirty clothes to the side of my bed and curl in with a harry potter audio book. ILY

Dear Alfred.

Dear Alfred,
Almost 7 years ago, I made a foolish choice that forever changed my life for the better. I brought you home with me--and by home I mean the basement of 86 New Brighton Rd. I don't think my roomates were thrilled at the thought of a furry beast living with us, but for the first time maybe in my whole life, i didn't care what anyone thought. I wanted you.
When I saw you I just knew you were supposed to me mine. I'll never forget bringing you home, wrapped up in a old towel. You were shaking and whimpering until I brought you downstairs. You just stood there for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. I'm pretty sure you peed on the carpet.
You became my best friend pretty fast, Alfie. You were named after Alfred Topel, resident of Island Shores Retirement Home. I loved him because he was ever kind and friendly--always joyful. You lived up to his name. You loved to play--although you never did quite get the hang out fetch. Unless of course it was with "squeaky". You sure loved squeaky.
You always seemed to know when I needed some extra love. When you were still a puppy you laid on my chest and licked up all my salty heartbroken tears. I swear you knew what I was feeling. You became quite the therapy dog for me--I would tell you all my worries and fears--and you'd sit there, your big brown eyes looking right into mine. You were the only thing that got me out of bed some days Alfred. Even at my most depressed, you could make me smile.
You lived a dogs dream. Free roam in the country. I watched you and my dad slowly become friends. At first, I asked him if he loved you. He said he didn't think people could love animals. Alfie, when he told me you were gone, I've never seen him so sad in all my life. He loved you and you helped him learn how to. You were his best buddy--you weren't the only one who looked forward to your weekly Menards trip, or filling the bird feeders together. You knew his name and would look out your window whenever I said he was coming home and would always greet him with the same response: utter joy. I will miss watching you two do your dumb tricks-dance, sit tall, over-under. I loved those shows, no matter how many times i'd seem them before. I'm sad because I don't know who will be my dad's buddy now. He loved your morning routine--he'd drink his coffee while you'd sit on his lap looking for birds. He'd call me when you'd do something weird, or sweet or naughty. He and I understood how special you were.  
I will miss all the friends we'd make because of you. Impromptu birthday party entertainment, brightening up a senior's day, or how you would gently let little people explore your mop of hair. You were a friend to everyone.
You gave my mom comfort so many times. You'd keep her pillow warm until it was time for bed. When dad told you it was "time to wake up ann" you'd dutifully climb the stairs and give her a kiss. She's going to miss that wake up call. She'll miss you sitting on the sun porch with her. She'll miss you getting into her purses and stealing her mints. She'll miss your fear of your own toots. She'll miss you scratching her legs while you ride on her lap.
You helped Dee get over her fear of dogs. I'll never forget how amazed we all were when she wanted to take you for a walk. I still giggle thinking about the first time she pet you...she was so nervous and timid. The last time she saw you, you waited outside her door until i brought you in and put you in her bed. She told me to! Only you could have won your way into her heart.
Even though you pooped on Sarah's cookbooks, I saw the way she loved to have you close. She loved the way you and my dad were inseparable. You helped her too when she was sad. You'll never know how much it calmed us down, or lifted our spirits when you'd lay next to us, letting us pet your hair.
I think the moments I will miss with you the most are when you' sleep in my bed. In the middle of the night, I'd call you to me and you'd lay so close to my head, I'd often wake up with your hair in my mouth. You loved my bed because you could look right out the window to your kingdom. You'd lay there for hours with me, looking between me and the world. It was hard to get out of bed with you right there beside me. I loved knowing if you left to get breakfast, I could always count on seeing your hair sticking out from under my door. Just laying there waiting to come back in.

I've been in tears the last 3 days, knowing all these things are just memories now. I don't know what it will be like without you in our lives, fred. You were so much more to us than just a doggie. You were a life-changing gift to us all. You helped heal my broken heart, you helped conquer fears, you were a friend to the lonely and a delight to us all.  We will never forget your Alfred. Thank you for loving us all.

camp krista, this ones for you.

I ran into an old friend from college. he asked me to remind him of my name. guess I'm scribbling his signature out of my yearbook.


ordered cinnastix to my new place and called the middle aged delivery man my hero. no shame


made a REAL online dating profile. got lotz of winks and messagez. deleted all 30.


had a panic attack in walmart. made my dad think I was "excited" for a good deal. cried in the car and looked at anxiety book pdfs.


live by myself and have to use a stool to reach (every)things. never wear pants. talk to myself a lot. and sing show-tunes.


all these things might be related, but I don't quite know for sure. basically I'm your typical 20 something gal, livin life in the big city, dreamin of $$ and sippin' cosmotinis and wearing heelz.

because you've asked

my dream job:

taking care of farm animals, while writing free lance satire, holding babies, doodling, visiting with elderly and baking cookies. scouring thrift shops for re purposed items and preforming in community theater production of fiddler on the roof. watering plants and braiding horse manes whilst dressed up in a costume making a funny video. 

i haven't seen anything like this yet, but i've yet to check craigslist. 

48 bottles banished to the basement

my friend is starting a clipart bizniz, and i have never been more jealous. if only i could start a paint  program/ paste peoples heads on other peoples bodies biz. I'D BE RICH.

i'm applying for my dream job currently. and by applying, i mean thinking about applying and second guessing my abilities.

sometimes i pride myself for only getting crushes on celebrities over 50 and absolute weirdos, but i'm pretty sure i have a crush on someone who is neither of the two. this crush is so extreme that all fine motor skills escaped me when he entered a 2 foot radius. my friend told me my eyes bulged and i made a yelping noise. much better than the eye swolleness and crying sounds i would make about that last crush. ( i'll tell you all about the futile friendzone failure next time, laydeez).

i went rollerskating recently. twerking while skating is not just a myth. it exists.

my dad made our dog a bed out of a cardboard produce box and foam. true life: my dad is frugal and inventive. he also "won" 48 bottles of poise feminine wash, but that's a story for another day.

10 qualities that awesome, perfect, flawless Godly women won't settle for anything less than in a REAL man,

1. He can lift me without grunting
This goes without saying, really. A real man's strength is measured in his ability to lift heavy objects. And since I'm perfect and skinny, if he can't lift me without a grunt, he must be weak--physically, emotionally, spiritually.

2. Must put God first in our relationship.
But, I still want him to call me  to talk about nothing every night before bed, answer my texts within 2 minutes, and sit by me while i pinterest. God comes first, but that's when i'm not around, right? just enough for me to say that's what makes him such a great leader.

3. Must be sensitive.
But i don't want to see him cry. Or express his feelings.

4. Must be hot.
God may look at the inward appearance, but I have to look at this face for the rest of my life.

5. Must be photogenic.
I need our pondid (candid-posed) photos to refect our perfect life together.

6. Must love kids.
And by love, i mean he must like them. and by like i mean he must be good with them. and by be good, i mean he has to have held a baby once and maybe talked to a little kid a couple times. then you know he's gonna be a wonderful father.

7. Must be a guy's guy.
I want him to love football, but i don't want him to watch it. I want him to have a lot of chummy college friends, but spend only a little time with them. Actually, i don't want him to hang out with his friends all that much. all they do is talk about sports. I want him to like the idea of guy stuff...but watch love actually with me.

8. Must be manly.
He needs to know how to fix everything, build machines out of natural elements and start fire with stones.

9. Must be spiritually disciplined.
I need him to hold his own with cliched christian prayer topics and current devotionals so our spiritual life is never questioned by our other christian friends.

10. Must love others.
But mostly just friends and family. I'd rather get some new throw pillows than help that homeless guy. god's wants to give us the desires of our heart, and i want those pillows. mostly, i guess i just want him to love me. and the pillows.

Rob Dyrdek

most people tell me that they could never have stories like mine. that my life is so fantastical filled with crazy, zany people and adventures. i'd like to remind them that we live in the same world...and that my stories mostly surround 4 staple elements: binge eating, boys, jobs(or joblessness) or embarrassment. the thing is, i tell the stories because i'm not embarrassed...and you shouldn't be either.

i love to tell these weird stories, but the truth is the best thing i ever did for myself was tell the story of who i am. not every knows it, nor will everyone...some people will just get bits and pieces. others, will get the version where my eyes well up and voice cracks a bit. as a life long  clown, telling a story that was anything but embarrassing was the most embarrassing thing i could do. no jokes or weird people to elaborate. just my little life and the lessons i've learned.

i think sometimes we get so wrapped up in creating an unbelievable life story, that we miss the things that make it just so. this has always been my problem. relentlessly wondering if things could be better, if something could make me happier, if i could make my life more exciting by doing it differently. trying desperately to create this cool story that people will think is unique or interesting. relentless wondering is ok for men who live alone in the woods, but not for anyone else.

over and over in my life the lesson has been the same. it is not so much what i am doing, but who i am when i am doing it. when i am content to be in the moment,content in who i am: that is when the little life moments come. that's when i can see the funny and strange and ridiculousness that is ever-present--if you don't believe me, turn to MTV2...ridiculousness is always on!

log chute me in the face

 i am writing this now because if i don't i am afraid the memory will fade.

this memory was the most frightening and most exhilarating moment of my entire life.

i rode the log chute at the mall of america. with adam basse.

i was really looking forward to the log chute. it's fun without being overly scary. the novelty paul bunyon and babe the blue ox figurines throughout the caves is always a fun sight. all around, a fabulous time.

the last time i was on a log chute, i was about 10 years old. this time, me and 3 other adults shoved our robust bodies into this tiny little fiberglass log. as someone who is afraid of boys and physical touch, my senses were on high  having to basically sit on poor adams lap. i told myself "you can do this" right before a gentle old woman operating the ride asked "they warned you, right?". boy, did they not.

i knew i should have jumped out when we started our ascent. i'm can't be certain, but i'm pretty sure me and adam  are legally married now in some middle eastern countries. every ounce of my body was jiggling violently as i tried with all my strength to keep my body weight off my log-partner. his laughter paired with my extreme embarrassment and weakness forced me to give up and i gave up in defeat as i released myself to body slam adam. my laughter almost muffled his grunts of agony as my weight slowly crushed his vital organs as we traveled upwards for what seemed to be hours.

sweet relief approached as we hit the drop...the releif didn't last long before the tidal wave hit. a 2 foot swell covered my entire body from head to toe. somehow, the water hit only me. could someone please explain how the other three passengers remained almost completely dry while i looked like i just took a tubby?

i didn't know if i should laugh or cry. my sweater vest instantly became heavier as did my body as it began to say goodbye to most of its fine motor ability. when it became obvious that there was another ascent above, my body chose laughter in stead of fear and i think adam peed his pants a little. our little faces were side by side as we silently laughed harder than i have in a long time.

i can't remember how much water got me at the end, but i do remember how  i left a  conspicuous puddle on the seat of the next ride and how my pants basically froze to my legs as we wandered around the parking lot looking for our car. total misery. total bliss. i hope this memory never goes away...but if it does, somewhere on the camp snoopy mainframe, there is a picture of 3 happy campers and one wet rat riding the log chute.

pinz

i have an idea.

i'm going to trick silly girls on pinterest who click on the "5 ways to make your marriage work" or "25 things all married couples should do" lists and exhange them with a mean-face emoticon that says "STOP PINNING AND PIN YOUR HUSBAND DOWN".

lol.

christmas is coming. the goose is getting fat. please put a penny in the old mans hat. because i am getting fat too, and will use your pennies to buy myself another sports bra so i can work out in comfort.

i pinned a couple that looked cute and functional.

06angeline

I don't know what possessed me to make an online dating profile for someone named "angeline". What is more, I don't know why I chose "our time"--a site for seniors, to be my platform of trickery. 

I'm not trying to trick people at all...I just wanted to look at the kind of people who signed up for this. I was crying looking at some of the older men's profiles. The longing for love seems to never go away. 

Here is what I've gathered from my time at our time:

choose a honest, yet flattering photo of yourself. angeline is not interested in headshots, or extreme editing

if you have "a few extra pounds" make sure to choose "i have a few extra pounds" in your bio. this is especially important if your photo shows the truth. i don't wanna date no liars!

while we're on the topic of photos, don't use your old wedding photo as your profile picture. cropping the bride out halfway only makes it half as worse.

if you're on "our time", a site aimed to bring senior citizens together, do not say your ideal woman is younger--25-30. unless you're hoping for there to be other weird young adults like me scopin' you out...that's just plain rude. 

while we're on the topic of frauds and liars, i guess i should go to bed. 

others, they twitter like birds

the best thing in life is laying in bed, laughing about things that happened during the day. things people said, or interactions. or christmas karaoke cds you make with your friend.

i've always wanted to make a christmas album. i wanted something festive and cheery, but also a little funny. i liked the idea of a midi file. i liked the idea of midwestern accents. i like peas and carrots.

my bff and i have a "routine" we like to do when we're feeling silly. we have these horrible overweight midwestern personas called trace and shirl. we like to talk about our failing diets, our husbands sex drives and celebrity gossip.

we put our characters to use with some 69 cent itunes downloads. i have never laughed harder in my life about something that wasn't that funny. those unfunny funnies, are usually the funniest.

we'll replay the songs, over and over...laughing hysterically, breathlessly and almost peeing our pants about the tiniest detail. honest to goodness hysterics...over a karaoke song?

these are the highlights of my life. complete joy about a little detail. shoving cheetos in my mouth, or the way an arby's sign looks late at night or a PT cruiser. prank calling family in an indian accent or making fun of pj salvage pajamas or choreographing dance routines to amy grant. the things that make me laugh like a maniac, breathe life into my often anxious and seasonally depressed self.


when people ask what i want in a spouse, maniac laughing is at the top of my list (i've actually been joking about the money and health insurance thing!). i don't know a lot about marriage, but it seems to me people who can roll around on the ground with their heads throbbing from laughing could probably figure out how to navigate through the hard parts, too. I have seen my parents laugh like that once or twice, and it was like seeing a glorious angel descend to earth.

that weird floating uncle albert from mary poppins got it right. i love to laugh...and it really is getting worse every year.

championship round

being frugal vs being disgusting: you be the judge.

i bought a sweater and have worn it everyday since. i bought it the day after thanksgiving.

i shower sparingly. last visit, 4 days ago. last interaction with a razor? can't recall. (warmth > smoothness. time spent standing still under hot water > time spent awkwardly hunched over shaving legs)

i make large quantities of food to last me weeks. my favorite dish is cans of beans and corn mixed with rice. every. day. if you put a random spice in it, it seems like a different meal.

i reuse my dishes. oatmeal in a mug for breakfast? one quick rinse and it becomes my bowl for rice and beans. coffee break? just scrape the residue off with my spoon and pour da java in. less time washing = more time eating.

home remedies & concoctions trump store bought alternatives. my sister discovered my kombucha brewing den in our bathroom closet and was permanently scarred by the "mother" mushroom. i once sanitized a toe nail clipper and snipped off an enlarged taste bud (i do not recommend doing that. bled for hours).

some of these habits i will continue on throughout my life, no doubt, but i promise if i ever have to share a bed with someone i will consider eliminating some. maybe the dishes one. we'll see.


ps: i know getting rid of a taste bud with a toenail clipper is really disgusting. i am ashamed. but i also think it was very inventive. my embarrassment outweighs my pride though. i'm sorry if i grossed you out.

sob story of my life is a bowl of cherries.

as of recent, my car has been having extreme issues. violent shaking, rattling, etc. usually i can figure out a fix to get me through. i brought my car to a shop and they told me what was wrong and said it wasn't imminent...but that eventually something would have to happen. eventually? i'll take my chances. 

well today i discovered i have a leak in my transmission. i didn't figure that out until after i attempted to drive my car faster than 30mph. hazards flashing, white knuckles gripping my wheel,  i somehow made it to my destination. there i stood in the snow in my skirt and spilled transmission fluid all over my red hands because my makeshift paper funnel wasn't properly constructed. 

there i was, feeling bad for myself, cold and pouty and covered in pink fluid. i was getting pissed at the droves of businessmen just walking by. why aren't they helping me? they should help me!  if i had a bf i could just call him and he could come help me! if had money in the bank i could get a nicer car! poor me! this is unfair!

the trans fluid did the trick and i was able to bring my baby to a steady 50. that was until some semi blasted its brown snow my way. when i tried to wipe it away, my wipers stuck and suddenly i couldn't see anything. i "calmly" pulled to the side...which turned more into a slipped down the side as it was covered in ice. i said a few naughty words and started to tear up as i violently got out of my car on the busy highway to wipe my wipers. 

cars were passing like bullets. lexus, bmw, fancy things, left and right. not even bothering to move over to the center lane. just like i do whenever i see that unlucky driver. 

just as i got the situation under control, and unlikely hero, a rough looking man in a beat up junker had stopped to see if i needed help. 

to say the least, i was taken off guard. my natural prejudice normally tells me to steer clear of men like this. he was obviously poor. his car was barely running. but there he was, helping a stranger in need, despite his obvious need. i was just able to say give him my thanks before i broke down into a pathetic happy/sad sob on the side of the road. i was so embarrassed of my attitude and i was so thankful for a kind person. 

what a perfect reminder this day has been to me. i have been privileged my whole life. i've been safeguarded from harm and need. i have a deep feeling of entitlement to these simple things. to a running car. to heat in my house. to food in my stomach. i say i am thankful, but what i'm really saying is "i expect nothing less."so often, i can't give because "i don't have enough to give". i can't help because first i need to help my self. before i can be aware of others needs, i need more. 

well, it has been a season of "less" for me. of course, i have much more than many, but for me, it has been a running lesson on thanksgiving and awareness of excess. wondering how i will pay a bill, or pay for gas has become part of my life--it won't be forever, but it's lessons i hope will last a life time. i am seeing "poor" people in a new light. i am understanding something i could only look at with pity before. i'm still entitled and selfish, but i am learning. 

today i am thinking of all the people who don't have a community of support like me. people who don't have friends and family to call when they can't get their car to start. people who don't have a flexible job that will let them be late. today i am thankful for people who care. who are looking out for others, despite the fact their own situation isn't perfect. i'm thankful for that rusty buick that reminded me that i don't have to have it all together to be able to care for others...and to always carry a funnel. 

username does not exist.

my dad got on his hands and knees and begged the ticket taker at the movies to let him back in without his stub. he called her "your majesty". I asked him if anyone saw. "don't know, don't care." was his response. who is this man? where is the chuck I once knew? this one can stay.

holidays are funny in my family. there is always an "issue". this year it was no heat, a rash and a dental emergency. but we had blankets, soaking tubs and vicodin to help us. we were very thankful.

speaking of emergency situations, I went to the mall. this doesn't happen often and now I am reminded why. the lights. the people. the hot flashes. I finally get why people subject themselves to the public embarrassment and germs of the Chinese chair massages in the middle of the hallways. No one really wants one...but needs one after the torture that is Abercrombie perfume wafting through the vents and pubescent boys picking out bath & bodyworks for their girlfriends. yuck.

it started snowing today, coincidentally my seasonal depression made it's way into my life, too. someone get me one of them happy lights, stat!

update: I retract my recommendation to look at old acquaintance's' linkedins. apparently, it shows them that you looked. I promptly started sweating and deleted my account when AJ told me so. living on the wild side.

In memoriam/there is still time

Sister christer just discovered that our beloved and celebrated xanga site was no longer accessible. Rather than paying the $48/month fee for access, she downloaded the content and was able to preserve a national treasure. To honor days gone by and my first attempts at humorous writing, I leave with you one of my favorite pieces. Not my best work, but I fear it could be slightly prophetic.

SkooterGrrlz Wed, 06 Jul 2005 02:21:43 -04:00 to our future husbands:

my beloved, i think of often. i know it sounds crazy, but i picture your butt crack as you squat down to pick up your doughnut. I can hear your laugh resounding in my ear, like a nasty congested dog. the way your burly woodchooper fingers gently try to make their way through my snarly, unwashed hair just makes me tingle in anticipation. my pulse races and my palms sweat at just the thought of us "becomming one." Ive been with lots of guys, but there always seems to be somthing...missing. I look forward to the day when we have Movie cuddle nights, watching those romantic old black and white films. (i appologize in advance for the "accidental popcorn fight i will start) I long to eat our cereal together everymorning (i like cornflakes, how about you?) Ive waited for the guy who calls me stupid, instead of pretty, and who honestly tells me i look fat in my jeans...and i am so happy ive waited. Cause what we will experiance, will be far greater than any instant gratification i have ever known. ever. maybe i know you. maybe i dont. maybe we're friends. maybe we have yet to cross paths. maybe we're related. all i know, is that i love you, whoever you are. with all my heart, soul, and most importantly, my body. i will rejoice in the day you decide my body is a wonderland. and i too will be your alice, and you will be my wonderland. i picture what our children will look like. yes, probally nasty...but we will love them anyways. in the perfect love we have discovered between us. please wait for me. cause im waitying. waiting for you darling. wait for me to....cause i wait for you.( thanks rebecaka st. james)
all my love, your future wife.
]]>

momzRcute

some boots were NOT meant for walking. specifically, uggs. i am still feeling the burn from an unexpected 2 mile brisk "walk" yesterday. beyond the extreme calf fatigue, i also looked like i was having an allergic reaction to something. the bright side? my physical activity is done for the month!

just kidding. i am also participating in the "turkey trot" this thanksgiving. at first i was hesitant, but then my mom told my my dog was doing it too. i'll do anything to be with my dog.

i'm not quite certain what trotting is, but i have a feeling i won't like it. maybe instead of engaging my body, i will engage my brain and draft a master plan for a dog sleigh for my dog to drag me in behind his energetic little body. that is, if my dad hasn't already.

my friend just sent me a text simply saying "omg". i knew that meant he had just seen catching fire. i asked him if i'm going to die when i see it. he said "maybe" just thought i should let someone know what has happened if i don't resurface monday afternoon. someone just make sure to shoot off a canon and raise three fingers for me.

today i had about a ten minute conversation with a man named cliff. that's my grandpa's name...but this man talked to me more than my grandpa ever has. i'm not being snarky, just truthful. anyways, cliff was a real weirdo, but i liked him. he told me if i ever get married and have children to take a train ride from redwing to st.paul. he told me where i could ballroom dance or listen to "authentic blues". i probably will never do any of those things, but i appreciated the suggestions.

talking to strangers used to mortify me. well, my dad talking to strangers would. sometimes it still makes me cringe when he does, but it's pretty cute...and it helped instill a basic understanding of polite conversation...something i unfortunately think is expired with the youth of today. but don't get me started on that.

speaking of talking to strangers, the thought of running into almost anyone from highschool while home for the holiday gives me absolute shivers up and down my spine. to celebrate certain impending doom, i decided to look at fellow classmates linkedin pages. i'm telling you now...if you ever want a good giggle...do that. do that now. i just couldn't get enough of the headshots, and resume-like info.

i started following a thing called "tiny house blog" and i am truly obsessed with the idea of making a tiny little house and living off the grid. mostly so i can subscribe to the lifestyle free of going to the doctor and driving cars...uh, but...um, mostly to be environmentally responsible! and those tiny little houses are so dang cute! little things are so cute!

my mom used to always pack my lunch full of mini things and i'd get so annoyed! mini pops, mini yogurts, mini, mini, mini. looking back, i wish i could have appreciated the cuteness of those mini products more. moms are always right when it comes to cute.

macaroni day

today i made cinnamon bun pancakes and danced like a hip hop ballerina in anticipation for their entry into my mouth. they got a standing ovation...and a quick run to the stove to make another batch and shove them down my grateful pie hole.

speaking of food, today was a macaroni day. these are the days that are gloomy and tired. where you have a headache or don't want to do any work. you want to eat macaroni and cheese and watch mister rogers. today was a macaroni day, but i didn't eat any macaroni.

instead i listened to voice mails over 2 months old, did laundry only to put it back on my floor and watch an episode of sister wives. when i found myself crying an embarassing amount during the homebirth of one of the sister wive's child, i realized my macaroni day had gone awol.

tonight, i met myself as a high schooler. it wasn't really me, but she reminded me of myself. it was both frightening and beautiful at the same time. within minutes of meeting, she was preforming a song from les mis, talking about peeing on an animal carcuss and stopping mid-sentance to dance to her "jam" (in case you were wondering, the song was wake me up, by avacci.) I really liked her, but also felt like calling my mom and saying "sorry".

i could spend a lot of time imagining what my future children could be like. a lot depends on my Y chromosome, but i'm pretty sure the child will be wild, naked and have stringy hair that doesn't get combed often. i hope they have a inch worm circus like me and take toads for walks on shoe strings...but i also hope they don't spend hours and hours talking to themselves and staying up crying about going to heaven. as long as they're dressed in the finest children's clothing, popular and are the best in their sports teams, i guess it doesn't matter.

gatekeeper.

perhaps i am late to the party, but i just found out that they are making an Independence Day II. whatttt? on a scale of 1 to a 13 year old boy in 1996, i am a starter jacket wearing, surge drinking, gameboy playing, michael jordan loving, young man! boy oh boy!

if there is one thing i love more than candy and corgis, it is jeff goldblum mid-90's. don't get me started. while i do love his antics in jurassic park, the neurosis of ID really strikes a chord in me.

i've often considered a career in mid-90's film review.the humor, the special effects, the great costuming. as a gift to you, i will now give my favorite 90's films.

1. home alone. obvz at the top of the list. the zany antics! the one liners! kevin!

2. the net. im sorry, im not sorry. the use of dial up during the climax is one of the greatest scenes in cinematic history. (and who doesn't remember the frantic need for dial up to hurry up so you can chat with your buddies!?)

3. breaking free. a lesser known classic in my book.  after a freak gymnastics injury, lydsay is sent to horse camp where rick, a troubled boy must confront his past while helping her towards her new sightless future. you can borrow my vhs.

4. camp nowhere. oh, the scandal. oh, the romance. oh, the chrisopher lloyd.

5. air force one. i still rewind the chubby lady parachuting out the back. "get off my plane!"

now, if you don't mind i'm gonna go get some dunkaroos and find some clear pepsi.

Actually, I shouldn't say that because I'm your teacher.

oops. i accidentally ate 4 pieces of toast and 3 sweet and salty nut bars in the past hour. it was an accident!

kinda like when  teacher sam falls for josie geller. that was an accident. but it was supposed to happen. just like the excessive carbs.

i think the emotional eating was brought on by a very touching NOVA program about odd animal couples. it was either the old goat who befriended a blind horse or the gabon who was left out from all other other monkeys in monkeyland that did me in. dang it, lonley monkey. why you gotta be so cute?

what is it about a lonely monkey that makes me want bread? what is it about a 30 something in disguise as a high school student that makes a teacher go bananas? somethings, are just imponderable.

hooverville

my friends are trying to set me up. i am breaking down.

of course i often comment on how much i would like to be in love...but that doesn't mean i want to talk to a boy!!!!! boyz r scary and smell like mcdonalds wrappers.

to lure me towards love, my anonymous friend has done the following:
-send 2 far away pictures of potential suitor riding a giant tricycle.
-investigate his hobbies aka ju jitsu
-take screen shot of his dog (this really is the only info i need)
-"accidentally" find his salary listed online

besides the fact that i can't see his face in the far away tricycle pictures, i'd consider my friend a genuine herbert hoover. i feel like i know everything i need to know that he and i are a perfect match!

its funny to write about boys and being chubby and things like that because they're my insecurities, and somewhere in my weird brain, bringing them out into the open range and being the first one to make fun of the situations will prevent any sort of embarrassment. unfortunately, my brain must be controlled by some mean geek squad team member, as i can't seem to choose which thoughts and words stream in and out. i shouldn't make fun of myself so much, but somewhere up there there is a man named todd with a pet tarantula crossing the red wires with the green ones. there are lots of job postings for geek squad team members, so i'm pretty sure i'm not the only one with an unwanted techie living upstairs.

because i am a sport, i've crafted a master plan. i'll meet this professor man, make fun of myself and then ask him which disney character i remind him of. when he says something i don't like, i'll use it as an excuse to excuse myself from possible rejection. or i will stuff him in my trunk and steal his dog. whatever happens, happens.

this whole thing has sounded like a terribly depressing and pathetic AIM away message circa 2001. my goal is to make things equal parts funny and vulnerable...but i've never been good at math.