LA-centrism/shame

I went to Wisconsin to visit my sister this weekend. As we landed, I expected to only see the lights from the houses of the two families that alternate running the airport, but it was bustling. I was ashamed of myself.

Græy Hair

I saw my first græy hair when I was 25. I found it on the crown of my head and thought it was a errant thread (Note: add "Errant Thread" to my list of band names) from my sweater, so I pulled it out. Ever since, every couple of weeks I pull out græys because I haven't accepted what those wires say about my youth. But I've noticed these pulled hairs are starting to resist less and less. Like my head is dying! "Full House" drummed into me that pulling out græys was bad because two would grow in it's place. But I figure if it doubles the chance for me to feel sensation in my scalp again it's worth it.

Today, in [fake] news!

HEADLINE: "First Shadowman escapes crack in void. City evacuated."

Les Aventures de Twintwin

c'est incroyable! 

(And I don't mean the hair.)

I've become a man

Looks like I forgot our anniversary. According to my math[s] it has been a year and... 3 (4?) days since I started this blog. And I let this landmark event come and go without incident, and for that I feel awful. You deserve better than me. I never thought I'd be such a neglectful lover, but I let my personal life take all my time and forgot to treat you nice.


I made a lot of promises back then. Not "promises" I guess, but I said a lot of things I maybe didn't mean about what I planned to do with this blog and I feel like I only half delivered. I know that's a run-on sentence but hear me out. I'm real sore for what I've done. For like four months I posted at least once a day, but I'm acting like I don't care any more. I set a standard for myself when I started.  Let's see how I measure up:

     1. Not write anything that will make me less popular with my friends.

     Since I started this blog I've become a real bad-ass. F*ck friendship! I'm pals with the truth!

     2. Not to write anything ironically. (I'm only slightly serious and very naive. So don't read too much into what I may post/mean. Or do. I'm not bothered I suppose. ...fools.)

     Let's just take this one out.

     3. Do write things that I think the people that I think are interested in this type of thing (dreck) would like to read. (I'll try not to let you down!!)
     Check √. You guys are some weirdos.

     4. Not take myself too seriously. (It's just some e-words. so, they don't really exist! "You're crazy for reading!!!)

     I don't think I'm in any danger of that. 

     5. Stop if this gets boring for me. (I'm the best kind of selfish, but still love me.)

     Umm... this has gotten pretty boring for me at times, and I'm sure it has to you, but I don't have plans to quit any time soon. I like blogging. And like to think you're sometimes entertained by my nonsense. 

You know what, it doesn't matter if I passed or failed. Point is, I'm sorry. I know I'm always asking for forgiveness, but I'll try to do better. Hey?! I thought about retroactively posting a blog for September 30th but thought you deserved it straight. That's gotta count for something right? So give us another chance, dahlin'. I'll try to come 'round more. It's the least you deserve for putting up with a chump like me.  And who knows, maybe we'll find our way to each other again. 

I had the most obliging cashier today...

Frisky.

Biological Clock

There's a point in most women's lives when anything "baby" makes them go crazy. I'm no exception. Recently even the sight of a baby makes my mind wander. But not like you would think. Some women fantasize about having babies, I fantasize about naming them. I meet a person and think, "Ooh! That's a good name." Or read a book and know, "I wouldn't name my daughter that." It's absurd. Any Iggys, Petals, Olivers, or Thurstons I come across, I store in my mental Name-Bank to dump on some imaginary future kid. But it's all in fun. Right now I like babies as much as I like dogs. Because naming is far more exciting than the thought of raising a child I don't even have the attention to feed. The power to names things is amazing! Makes me feel like a real Adam. Not Eve. That tart ruined it for us all.

Do you ever...

...brush your teeth with your left hand and pretend you're going through physical therapy? ...me neither.

Today, in [fake] news!

HEADLINE: "Dog raised by cars finally finds love."

Romance Bone

I used to think I didn't have a romantic bone in my body.  I always thought romance was for the birds. Love birds. And that any time spent on anything touchy-feely could touch the broadest part of the bottom of my heart. 'Cause honestly who has room?! What with the 200+ already rattling 'round these overstuffed skin-bags. And I'm a modern woman for crying out loud! But despite my best efforts I discovered I have a fully matured romance bone. And no, it wasn't discovered near my romance-hole, but over a series of events that verified its existence. Recently I've been finding myself doing things I wouldn't otherwise do.  Feeling ways I hoped I wouldn't soon feel due to that inconvenient bone. It's all very new to me but I'm staying realistic. I've simply come to the conclusion that feelings are fine as long as you feel fine. But like literal bones, figurative bones can break, and I'm prepared for that. That's why I have insurance.

Rubbish Recipe

After years of tweaking, I've finally developed the prefect trash recipe! A no-fail mix of mess that'll have your guests saying, "Hey! Is that garbage I smell...?!" Just follow these simple steps and you'll be making muck in no time!

You'll need:
          - Banana peels (or skins)
          - [Raw] chicken skins (or peels)
          - Egg shells
          - Decaying veggies (or anything that produces "garbage juice")
          - Mint flavored dental floss
          - Walnuts

Chef's Note: The serving amount depends on how much trash you'd like to make. This recipe makes one large serving so I suggest multiplying as needed if you're planning on making trash for two or more people.

First you'll need to build on a nice flavorful base, so start with your favorite unwantables to make waste that's all your own. Add aged banana peels and egg shells. (Many or few depending on the amount of eggy-banana-stink you can handle.) In a separate bowl, mix raw chicken skins and old veggies, drain juices and set aside, then add bowl to egg-banana mixture. Fold in lengths of mint floss for good measure, and pour in drainage. Sprinkle liberally with walnuts. Serve at room temperature.

Serves 1-2.

'Cause no one wants a generic breakfast

I wonder what the re-sale value is on these. 

I don't know how to convince myself they aren't the same person

Romany Malco (R.M.) and Rutina Wesley (R.W.) And a "W" is just a "M" mid-summersault... Hmmm...

No.

There's got to be a more conclusive test. The others weren't nearly this hard to tell apart.

Human Lessons

Sorry for not posting more frequently. Things have been really hectic for me recently. (Does that rhyme?) ... (Should I make this a rhyming post?) I've been focusing a lot of my energy on things to turn my life around.  I've since learned how to drive and received my first human license! (I guess not.) I'm really excited about that. I've purchased and now sleep in an actual human bed. Thrilled about that. And, most proudly, I've taken up reading! I know! A whole me, reading a real-life page-book! I just felt it was about time I start. (Plus, I hear guys like a girl that knows her way around a library, if you know what I mean.)

Now to clear any confusion, I KNOW HOW TO READ. I just don't. And haven't since last year. The book I read last year was "The Great Gatsby". And the year before that, "A Picture of Dorian Grey". (I didn't read often so I had to make the ones I do count.) But I'm really excited about this book I'm practicing on now. I'm not going to say the name because I've already received spoilers from people who think they're hilarious when they're actually just your average run-of-the-mill crumb-bums. (A clue to the book I'm reading.) Anyowl, I'm really looking forward to this more capable me. Everything just seems more possible when you start to treat yourself like an actual human being. Honestly, a lesson I wish I were taught earlier. ('cause man did I hate them earlier lessons.)

Today, in [fake] news!

HEADLINE: Time And Relative Distress In South: Firefighters kneel in anticipation of The Doctor's arrival; the true authority in times of English crisis.