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.