at our company, we order various grain sizes of dry chemicals.
and the office secretary asked me, "whats the difference between them?"
so I, realizing she has no science background whatsoever, say, "well, powder is the consistency of blush. and granular is something like salt. and noodles are ... "
and she pipes in, "like rice?"
yeah, so i think we connected on that intellectual level.
June 20, 2008
June 19, 2008
felt productive last night
it's amazing what you can do when you dont do nothing all day. (Dont do nothing? Yeah, thats what I meant).
So I get home close to 5pm.
530-640: ride around Scaryetta/Kennesaw Mountain. About 8 miles. See an asian who claims to have seen me ride on Cobb Parkway (which I dont do ever). Its a long story. Also saw some neighborhood kids. Emphasis on the 'hood. Did you ever take those quizzes asking how many 8 year olds could you take? I definitely lower my number to no more than 6. Have you ever seen six 8 year olds together? I felt like I was in middle school all over again with my helmet, perfect posture, and bike rack riding through their judgmental seedy little eyes.
[500-530: I was shaving my legs and bike prepping. I didnt think you needed to know all that. Thats why Im mentioning that you didnt need to know all that. But by mentioning that you didnt need to know all that, you end up knowing all that. Okay okay I'll do it: Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.]
640-700: Walk Zoey. And when I say "walk Zoey" I mean Zoey walked and I rode my bike with her leash in my hand.
700-705: Met crazy neighbor (think the crazy cat lady from the simpsons but with a dog). Her dog was all sniffing Zoey and not on a leash. And she asks me to grab her dog because her dog was much more interested in Zoey and not in the meat she was trying to get her with. I think her dog's name is something weird. Like Tika or Tutu.
705-720: Made some fake chicken with A1 sauce on it. And then I ate it.
720-920: Put some laundry in the washer. Watched MST3K: Mitchell. A mass wave of sleepiness washed over me.
920-930: Turned off the movie. Read some of Lucky Jim. Fell asleep on top of the covers with my lamp that-I-think-will-start-fires-if-I-ever-left-it-on on.
I also took a shower sometime after the bike ride and before the movie. Im pretty sure my times are accurate though. So I think my shower happened during a break in the space-time continuum.
PS. This blog could also be titled: why i woke up at 430 am in the morning. (who falls asleep before 10 pm these days? Oh. I do.)
So I get home close to 5pm.
530-640: ride around Scaryetta/Kennesaw Mountain. About 8 miles. See an asian who claims to have seen me ride on Cobb Parkway (which I dont do ever). Its a long story. Also saw some neighborhood kids. Emphasis on the 'hood. Did you ever take those quizzes asking how many 8 year olds could you take? I definitely lower my number to no more than 6. Have you ever seen six 8 year olds together? I felt like I was in middle school all over again with my helmet, perfect posture, and bike rack riding through their judgmental seedy little eyes.
[500-530: I was shaving my legs and bike prepping. I didnt think you needed to know all that. Thats why Im mentioning that you didnt need to know all that. But by mentioning that you didnt need to know all that, you end up knowing all that. Okay okay I'll do it: Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.]
640-700: Walk Zoey. And when I say "walk Zoey" I mean Zoey walked and I rode my bike with her leash in my hand.
700-705: Met crazy neighbor (think the crazy cat lady from the simpsons but with a dog). Her dog was all sniffing Zoey and not on a leash. And she asks me to grab her dog because her dog was much more interested in Zoey and not in the meat she was trying to get her with. I think her dog's name is something weird. Like Tika or Tutu.
705-720: Made some fake chicken with A1 sauce on it. And then I ate it.
720-920: Put some laundry in the washer. Watched MST3K: Mitchell. A mass wave of sleepiness washed over me.
920-930: Turned off the movie. Read some of Lucky Jim. Fell asleep on top of the covers with my lamp that-I-think-will-start-fires-if-I-ever-left-it-on on.
I also took a shower sometime after the bike ride and before the movie. Im pretty sure my times are accurate though. So I think my shower happened during a break in the space-time continuum.
PS. This blog could also be titled: why i woke up at 430 am in the morning. (who falls asleep before 10 pm these days? Oh. I do.)
June 18, 2008
Michael Jackson resides here
This black guy at work was asking for change [for the vending machine I presume].
So I say, "Change starts here, brother" and I pointed to his chest.
This is all.
So I say, "Change starts here, brother" and I pointed to his chest.
This is all.
June 17, 2008
Stuff to buy
Okay Im going to get a COSTCO membership.
And then I think I saw a $170 CoolPix AShton Kutcher digital camera there.
Good plan.
And then I think I saw a $170 CoolPix AShton Kutcher digital camera there.
Good plan.
Excerpt: "Chapter: Penelope" by James Joyce, from Ulysses.
"Molly's soliloquy ends, "O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibralter as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Morrish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes."
I, like Sharon, really like run on sentences. That part at the end ... with all the "yes"ses and the "and"s and its lack of punctuation makes me yes
June 16, 2008
Lucky Jim
Not only is the 1st paragraph of Ch. 6 the best description of a hangover I've ever read ...
"His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum."
But I read this today too.
"All the same, what messes these women got themselves into over nothing. Men got themselves into messes too, and ones that weren't so easily got out of, but their messes arose from attempts to satisfy real and simple needs."
Dont particularly agree with that 100% (the first half, yes; the second half, not so much) but still was funny to read because the first part is SO TRUE SOMETIMES.
You couldnt believe some of the problems I've dreamt up in my head that didnt really exist.
"His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum."
But I read this today too.
"All the same, what messes these women got themselves into over nothing. Men got themselves into messes too, and ones that weren't so easily got out of, but their messes arose from attempts to satisfy real and simple needs."
Dont particularly agree with that 100% (the first half, yes; the second half, not so much) but still was funny to read because the first part is SO TRUE SOMETIMES.
You couldnt believe some of the problems I've dreamt up in my head that didnt really exist.
June 13, 2008
funny stuff from tv
Okay Im so lame, Im blogging about funny and/or relevant stuff I heard on tv.
So.
LAST COMIC STANDING
I heard two yoga jokes so I HAD to make note.
Stretching to rap music. Its called Yo Yo Yoga.
Seth would like that I bet. Me, not so much. Okay, I'll give it an "eh".
This other comedian said how yoga was an entire hour of holding in a fart. That was funny. I've never farted during yoga though. Because I'm a delicate flower and I do not participate in such nonsense as farting. Especially during something as ancient and sacred as yoga.
CONAN O BRIAN
So during his monologue Conan says something like this: In California, a female figure skater told police someone slipped a roofie in her drink. She said she's not sure who did it, but she was sure it wasnt a male figure skater.
Okay I cracked up laughing.
But Conan's audience was silent. And then Conan starts laughing and says, "That did so badly, it amused me." And he says something about how after that joke was said, a quiet permeated the room that you cant get in deep space.
male figure skaters = gay. I got it Conan.
TV - good times.
[insert my typical tv disclaimer: i love tv but i dont spend my days wasting away in front of it. i watch less than 1 hour of tv a night. for sure, son.]
So.
LAST COMIC STANDING
I heard two yoga jokes so I HAD to make note.
Stretching to rap music. Its called Yo Yo Yoga.
Seth would like that I bet. Me, not so much. Okay, I'll give it an "eh".
This other comedian said how yoga was an entire hour of holding in a fart. That was funny. I've never farted during yoga though. Because I'm a delicate flower and I do not participate in such nonsense as farting. Especially during something as ancient and sacred as yoga.
CONAN O BRIAN
So during his monologue Conan says something like this: In California, a female figure skater told police someone slipped a roofie in her drink. She said she's not sure who did it, but she was sure it wasnt a male figure skater.
Okay I cracked up laughing.
But Conan's audience was silent. And then Conan starts laughing and says, "That did so badly, it amused me." And he says something about how after that joke was said, a quiet permeated the room that you cant get in deep space.
male figure skaters = gay. I got it Conan.
TV - good times.
[insert my typical tv disclaimer: i love tv but i dont spend my days wasting away in front of it. i watch less than 1 hour of tv a night. for sure, son.]
June 12, 2008
but .. but ... you guys shared cookies.
I hope this isnt tacky. The fact that I wrote that previous sentence tells me that, in fact, yes this will be tacky.
Anyways, this LDS couple that I dont really know broke up.
Im just a little surprised because
A. they made a cute couple Yes it deserves its own letter.
B. I saw the male hug and swing the girl around in a circle. Straight up The Notebook style, youknowwhutImsayin. If a bitter person saw that they would have had no problem rolling their eyes and saying, "COME ON. GIVE ME A BREAK."
C. I SAW THEM EAT COOKIES TOGETHER
ITs completely strange for me to see two completely normal looking LDS folks date for awhile and not automatically get hitched. It's just weird.
Im used to seeing the first serious boyfriend becoming someone's eternal companion.
So I kinda admire them for knowing what they want. Or dont want.
And, on the other hand, Sharon and I gmailed today about how its okay to "settle" (in the way THIS article means to settle). I would go more into this but I dont want to get too technical and backtrack everything Im saying. Suffice to say, I just hope that they didnt throw away something really special over something real petty.
I have just seen far too many divorces from LDS people (sealed in the temple, btw) who married for the sake of getting married in their teens and not make it to their 5 year anniversary. Without even trying, I can think of five couples that didnt make it, temple marriage and all. It seems like most of them, a partner just simply wasnt happy. No money or cheating or "fell out of love" issues. Just both partners werent giving it their all.
Dont mean to brag but I honestly think I can go the distance with a willing participant (male human, preferably).
I'm loyal like a freakin dog. When Im in a relationship, Im not even tempted to resolve things through "giving up" or check out other guys. But, I do date up. Which automatically means the guy has the short end of the schtick.
But for real yo. Even with my friends - they are mainly ones I met in middle school. I still hang out with friends that have babies and husbands. I CARE I CANT HELP IT!
Once we're tight I'll never let you go. [insert psycho music]
Anyways, this LDS couple that I dont really know broke up.
Im just a little surprised because
A. they made a cute couple Yes it deserves its own letter.
B. I saw the male hug and swing the girl around in a circle. Straight up The Notebook style, youknowwhutImsayin. If a bitter person saw that they would have had no problem rolling their eyes and saying, "COME ON. GIVE ME A BREAK."
C. I SAW THEM EAT COOKIES TOGETHER
ITs completely strange for me to see two completely normal looking LDS folks date for awhile and not automatically get hitched. It's just weird.
Im used to seeing the first serious boyfriend becoming someone's eternal companion.
So I kinda admire them for knowing what they want. Or dont want.
And, on the other hand, Sharon and I gmailed today about how its okay to "settle" (in the way THIS article means to settle). I would go more into this but I dont want to get too technical and backtrack everything Im saying. Suffice to say, I just hope that they didnt throw away something really special over something real petty.
I have just seen far too many divorces from LDS people (sealed in the temple, btw) who married for the sake of getting married in their teens and not make it to their 5 year anniversary. Without even trying, I can think of five couples that didnt make it, temple marriage and all. It seems like most of them, a partner just simply wasnt happy. No money or cheating or "fell out of love" issues. Just both partners werent giving it their all.
Dont mean to brag but I honestly think I can go the distance with a willing participant (male human, preferably).
I'm loyal like a freakin dog. When Im in a relationship, Im not even tempted to resolve things through "giving up" or check out other guys. But, I do date up. Which automatically means the guy has the short end of the schtick.
But for real yo. Even with my friends - they are mainly ones I met in middle school. I still hang out with friends that have babies and husbands. I CARE I CANT HELP IT!
Once we're tight I'll never let you go. [insert psycho music]
June 11, 2008
Foot in mouth disease. Still there.
Have you ever worked out and gotten sore from things you shouldnt have gotten sore at because it's been awhile since you've been to the gym? Yeah, me neither.
I honestly think my arms werent meant to do chattarungas.
Foot in mouth moment: So today we went out to eat with Virginia, Dennis, Chip, Lucas, and me. We were talking about Virginia's baby name and its going to be Lila. EXCELLENT choice. 4 letters. 2 syllables. A good efficient name right?
So then we talk about how certain names tend to belong to really horrible people. Like most Brooke's are fat (except, like, one). And few supermodels are named Helga ...
So I go, "AMANDAs! Ugh, like most are so annoying." (and I was thinking about these two blond girls that were kind of slutty in high school). But I TOTALLY forgot that Lucas's sister is named Amanda! I did not mean her at all.
So then Virginia recounts a story from past Halloween. I had totally forgot about this. But we were at Addie's house and her friend was dressed up as a witch. And her "costume" consisted of a Dollar General witch's hat and some high school graduation stoal. And I say, "Oh, thats so inventive. If I was ever low on money I could steal your idea." Right after it popped out of my mouth I was in okay-we-gotta-go-now mode. I apologized but since she didnt really know me, I dont think it came across that sincere.
And apparently I had told Chip he was going to hell for smoking cigarettes and being gay. Which, I highly doubt I did. He must be making stuff up.
I honestly think my arms werent meant to do chattarungas.
Foot in mouth moment: So today we went out to eat with Virginia, Dennis, Chip, Lucas, and me. We were talking about Virginia's baby name and its going to be Lila. EXCELLENT choice. 4 letters. 2 syllables. A good efficient name right?
So then we talk about how certain names tend to belong to really horrible people. Like most Brooke's are fat (except, like, one). And few supermodels are named Helga ...
So I go, "AMANDAs! Ugh, like most are so annoying." (and I was thinking about these two blond girls that were kind of slutty in high school). But I TOTALLY forgot that Lucas's sister is named Amanda! I did not mean her at all.
So then Virginia recounts a story from past Halloween. I had totally forgot about this. But we were at Addie's house and her friend was dressed up as a witch. And her "costume" consisted of a Dollar General witch's hat and some high school graduation stoal. And I say, "Oh, thats so inventive. If I was ever low on money I could steal your idea." Right after it popped out of my mouth I was in okay-we-gotta-go-now mode. I apologized but since she didnt really know me, I dont think it came across that sincere.
And apparently I had told Chip he was going to hell for smoking cigarettes and being gay. Which, I highly doubt I did. He must be making stuff up.
The best part, the best part of waking up is _____ in your cup.
I heard Zoey scratching on my door but it was 3 am or something and I was like "girlfriend can wait!"
Apparently, I was wrong. She couldnt wait. There's nothing like smelling dog crap where ever you walk in the morning. And at first, I couldnt find it! Zoey is a big dog and the smell was everywhere. How could I not find the origin of the odor??!!
Well I found it. Thankfully (and i mean that in the most relative way ever) it was on hardwood floor. I got like 4 good handfuls of the "nuggets" before I even got to the wet stuff (a reason why I personally dont feed dogs wet dog food but whatever).
Finally I got the grabbable stuff up and then was left with what was smeared into the floor. And some of the hardwood floor doesnt meet perfectly creating cracks. And so I had to get a butter knife and scrape it all out. The smell was still horrible. Im thinking the bulk of the dog crap is put away so therefore the smell should be diminished. But apparently bad odor just exists and isnt based on mass of the crap it came from.
To make a 30 minute gag inducing story short ... thanks to Comet, that butterknife and a strong stomach, the house is free of any [seeable] dog poop. And [smellable] dog poop smell.
GOOOOO NIKI! WE'RE NUMBER ONE WE'RE NUMBER ONE!
So thats my adventures in dog sitting story.
PS. I was not mad at Zoey at all. Shes a very good dog and this was just an accident. I felt bad for her because diarrhea can be a bad thing for a dog to go through.
I mean, thats what I've read ...
Apparently, I was wrong. She couldnt wait. There's nothing like smelling dog crap where ever you walk in the morning. And at first, I couldnt find it! Zoey is a big dog and the smell was everywhere. How could I not find the origin of the odor??!!
Well I found it. Thankfully (and i mean that in the most relative way ever) it was on hardwood floor. I got like 4 good handfuls of the "nuggets" before I even got to the wet stuff (a reason why I personally dont feed dogs wet dog food but whatever).
Finally I got the grabbable stuff up and then was left with what was smeared into the floor. And some of the hardwood floor doesnt meet perfectly creating cracks. And so I had to get a butter knife and scrape it all out. The smell was still horrible. Im thinking the bulk of the dog crap is put away so therefore the smell should be diminished. But apparently bad odor just exists and isnt based on mass of the crap it came from.
To make a 30 minute gag inducing story short ... thanks to Comet, that butterknife and a strong stomach, the house is free of any [seeable] dog poop. And [smellable] dog poop smell.
GOOOOO NIKI! WE'RE NUMBER ONE WE'RE NUMBER ONE!
So thats my adventures in dog sitting story.
PS. I was not mad at Zoey at all. Shes a very good dog and this was just an accident. I felt bad for her because diarrhea can be a bad thing for a dog to go through.
I mean, thats what I've read ...
June 9, 2008
if i told you once i told you a thousand times
i tell the guys in the lab this all the time. over and over again. broken record and all that.
i say: dont clean glass in the sink when there's other glass in the sink.
and what do they do? clean glass when there's glass in the sink.
i cant begin to describe how much glassware they've broken while cleaning beakers when there's glass already in the sink. beakers just need to ding another beaker and they're cracked and useless.
and the 4l beaker that was broken today ... its like 40 bucks from fisher.
i say: dont clean glass in the sink when there's other glass in the sink.
and what do they do? clean glass when there's glass in the sink.
i cant begin to describe how much glassware they've broken while cleaning beakers when there's glass already in the sink. beakers just need to ding another beaker and they're cracked and useless.
and the 4l beaker that was broken today ... its like 40 bucks from fisher.
dogs are stupid - i mean - cute.
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary:
6:00 am - At last! I go pee! My favorite thing!
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00 pm - They're home! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched tv with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.
In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
6:00 am - At last! I go pee! My favorite thing!
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00 pm - They're home! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched tv with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.
In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
SBZ part of my weekend
So SBZ and I were at her place on Sunday.
YUM! She made fantabulous Strawberry Shortcake.
She says the shortcake part was basically like a sweet biscuit. And I cut up the strawberries. And she asks me to pick out one of the shortcake things she made. And I did. And then she pushes me away and is like "I'll fix the rest." Who likes cooking like that? I guess if you're dedicated to a craft, you're dedicated to a craft. Who am I to argue and get in the way?
So as this deliciousness was settling, I told SBZ about some of church. And then I told her as I was leaving church, I mentioned to these 2 guys in the foyer (ie, hot mess) that we were going to watch an 80s movie about a girl pretending to be a boy. The not hot mess guy goes, "Is Hillary Swank in it?" Ummm, that's a no. I hope he wasnt thinking about Boys Dont Cry. Because A. Not a comedy. B. Not from the 80s. C. See A. I dont think Id watch Boys Dont Cry with SBZ. Nothing like seeing a transgendered Hillary Swank getting raped on a Sunday afternoon with a good friend.
Let's just hope he really meant The Next Karate Kid. (Which is from 1994 btw - thanks imdb.com).
After our food settled, we went to the Chattahoochee and walked two miles. I thought my gray shirt didnt show sweat (which is really surprising because when does gray NOT show sweat?). But after the first mile, the gray didnt disappoint. We saw a hot guy jogging. Real bouncy. When I run, its pretty slow and deliberate. So I want to punch bouncy runners in the face. But I waved to him instead. And then we saw this guy and woman with a golden retriever. And I said something funny but I cant remember anymore. But seriously the dog had a look on his face that was like, "AC, please. I have fur. It's hot." One of those three thoughts was definitely running through his mind. Im a dog whisperer, I know these things. SBZ and I talked about yoga and spin, the deeper points of life. And I sung that Mariah Carey song, "Bye bye". And we talked about old Mariah versus new Mariah. Again, the deeper points of life. We see this other guy who has clearly killed someone. Or will in the future. And we (well, I) start talking about how many calories it takes to kill someone ... depending on the assailant's physical health and the victim's physical health. SBZ thought he heard us (me), but I dont think he did. We're (I'm) still alive arent we (I)?
SBZ also made me listen to Raven Simone. I would be mad at her but our time is short.
Okay so we saw Just One of the Guys. What a typical 80s movie! The clothes. The boob shots in PG-13. The mean dumb jock guy. Rating guys by looks, then by car. It was all there. Some other points of the movie.
- Her name was Terry. What a horrible name. SBZ goes, "Pat?"
- Man Terry pushes Rick's hair off of his ear while they were in the boy's bathroom. I about died!
- Girl Terry crawls up the stairs and her brother is following her. IT was just honestly a weird scene.
- Terry's little brother is such a horndog! His name is Buddy. He reads Penthouses for breakfast and Terry goes out on the balcony in her underwear. Thats how families operated in the 80s I guess.
- Buddy teaches Terry how to adjust man balls.
- The geek boys were really geeky. In gym class, they were both chosen last and kind of had a spaz when they had to split up into separate teams. One of the geeky boys REALLY loves animals. Mainly reptiles.
- Man Terry's reaction when the gym teacher tells her she's on the Skin team ... nice.
- Terry's BFF finds a man at another school's prom because they dont remember her when she was fat.
Anyways, solid 80s movie.
Quotes
Terry: You know, sometimes I just wish I was a guy.
Buddy: No you don't! The male body needs sex at all times! It's a living hell!
Terry: Look, maybe my balls don't itch.
Buddy: All balls itch! It's a fact!
Buddy: Don't get me wrong. It's not like I've never had sex before. I've had lots of sex. It's just that now I'd like to try it with a partner.
Buddy: I’d rather wallow in my virginity…
Terry is such a stallion. Go on Ter, show him your hairy chest.
(These quotes arent copy pasted from a website ... so they probably arent true to the movie.)
[Buddy has Penthouse pictures up on his wall. He's trying to prove to Terry that he's not a jerk]: Kim reads Vonnegut and Lauren cleans up toxic waste. And the only reason Barbara does her physics homework naked is because the library is hot!
You know what this is called ? Male bonding. Just a couple of guys in the mens' room. talking.
YUM! She made fantabulous Strawberry Shortcake.
She says the shortcake part was basically like a sweet biscuit. And I cut up the strawberries. And she asks me to pick out one of the shortcake things she made. And I did. And then she pushes me away and is like "I'll fix the rest." Who likes cooking like that? I guess if you're dedicated to a craft, you're dedicated to a craft. Who am I to argue and get in the way?
So as this deliciousness was settling, I told SBZ about some of church. And then I told her as I was leaving church, I mentioned to these 2 guys in the foyer (ie, hot mess) that we were going to watch an 80s movie about a girl pretending to be a boy. The not hot mess guy goes, "Is Hillary Swank in it?" Ummm, that's a no. I hope he wasnt thinking about Boys Dont Cry. Because A. Not a comedy. B. Not from the 80s. C. See A. I dont think Id watch Boys Dont Cry with SBZ. Nothing like seeing a transgendered Hillary Swank getting raped on a Sunday afternoon with a good friend.
Let's just hope he really meant The Next Karate Kid. (Which is from 1994 btw - thanks imdb.com).
After our food settled, we went to the Chattahoochee and walked two miles. I thought my gray shirt didnt show sweat (which is really surprising because when does gray NOT show sweat?). But after the first mile, the gray didnt disappoint. We saw a hot guy jogging. Real bouncy. When I run, its pretty slow and deliberate. So I want to punch bouncy runners in the face. But I waved to him instead. And then we saw this guy and woman with a golden retriever. And I said something funny but I cant remember anymore. But seriously the dog had a look on his face that was like, "AC, please. I have fur. It's hot." One of those three thoughts was definitely running through his mind. Im a dog whisperer, I know these things. SBZ and I talked about yoga and spin, the deeper points of life. And I sung that Mariah Carey song, "Bye bye". And we talked about old Mariah versus new Mariah. Again, the deeper points of life. We see this other guy who has clearly killed someone. Or will in the future. And we (well, I) start talking about how many calories it takes to kill someone ... depending on the assailant's physical health and the victim's physical health. SBZ thought he heard us (me), but I dont think he did. We're (I'm) still alive arent we (I)?
SBZ also made me listen to Raven Simone. I would be mad at her but our time is short.
Okay so we saw Just One of the Guys. What a typical 80s movie! The clothes. The boob shots in PG-13. The mean dumb jock guy. Rating guys by looks, then by car. It was all there. Some other points of the movie.
- Her name was Terry. What a horrible name. SBZ goes, "Pat?"
- Man Terry pushes Rick's hair off of his ear while they were in the boy's bathroom. I about died!
- Girl Terry crawls up the stairs and her brother is following her. IT was just honestly a weird scene.
- Terry's little brother is such a horndog! His name is Buddy. He reads Penthouses for breakfast and Terry goes out on the balcony in her underwear. Thats how families operated in the 80s I guess.
- Buddy teaches Terry how to adjust man balls.
- The geek boys were really geeky. In gym class, they were both chosen last and kind of had a spaz when they had to split up into separate teams. One of the geeky boys REALLY loves animals. Mainly reptiles.
- Man Terry's reaction when the gym teacher tells her she's on the Skin team ... nice.
- Terry's BFF finds a man at another school's prom because they dont remember her when she was fat.
Anyways, solid 80s movie.
Quotes
Terry: You know, sometimes I just wish I was a guy.
Buddy: No you don't! The male body needs sex at all times! It's a living hell!
Terry: Look, maybe my balls don't itch.
Buddy: All balls itch! It's a fact!
Buddy: Don't get me wrong. It's not like I've never had sex before. I've had lots of sex. It's just that now I'd like to try it with a partner.
Buddy: I’d rather wallow in my virginity…
Terry is such a stallion. Go on Ter, show him your hairy chest.
(These quotes arent copy pasted from a website ... so they probably arent true to the movie.)
[Buddy has Penthouse pictures up on his wall. He's trying to prove to Terry that he's not a jerk]: Kim reads Vonnegut and Lauren cleans up toxic waste. And the only reason Barbara does her physics homework naked is because the library is hot!
You know what this is called ? Male bonding. Just a couple of guys in the mens' room. talking.
Church part of my weekend.
Saturday
I went to the YSA conference. LAME. Except for a few parts. And one really awesome part. Oh. Don comes up to me and says "I have something for you." And I'm thinking he's going to give me something like flowers or Apples to Apples but NO. He opens up his trunk and gives me 3 plastic grocery bags full of glass bottles. Ragu sauce and stuff. What I've always wanted. I make one comment about recycling glass around him and now I'm known as the dumpster lady. In all honesty, I was really glad that he brought the glass for me to recycle for him. He's a surprising guy. Sometimes. He still has the tact of a Caterpillar Tractor at times (worst analogy ever). He danced with this Asian girl that had graduated college and he told me he was about to tell her that Asians tend to age well because she looked a lot younger than that. . . .
I also got kinda bored at the testimony meeting and I wanted to get gas sooner rather than later ... so I left the testimony meeting. I went to WalMart and just bought Apples to Apples for myself. I dont know when I'm going to be around more than 3 or 4 people to play it, but I'll have the game with me just in case now. All is well.
I saw Stone Mountain behind the WalMart and I kinda wanted to drop by but I didnt because I was by myself and Stone Mountain isnt really a by yourself type of place.
I knew that the new Hindu Mandir was closeby. So I tried to use my VZ Navigator to find it. The new Mandir is the largest in the USA and really beautiful, ornate, and marble-y. I was hoping it was open till about 9 so I could take my shoes off and drop inside for a bit. But my VZ Navigator took me somewhere that wasnt it. I ended up at this Hindu Temple that looked like the edge of a clown drum - red and yellow triangles painted on the sides. It was pretty tacky. Might be beautiful to the Hindus though. I should have searched for a Publix that was closeby. Since I remember the Publix right next to the Mandir that I wanted to go to. . . .
(I just got off the phone with my mom. I told her I went to the YSA Conference and she goes, "[in a southern accent] What? You went to the gay concert?")
Some of the guys I talked to were just insufferably, uh whats the right word?, dense? I seriously have a better time talking to myself in a mirror. Lets just hope they were nervous or maybe 13 years old that snuck into the dance.
But not all the guys were like that. I'm mainly thinking of the Clay Aiken look alike (the one that held my hand really weird and had his other hand up my armpit while we were dancing ... that one.)
Sunday
So I went to church ready to learn about Jesus. And, UHHHH!, I could hardly focus because of this hot mess of a man sitting front right of me. GEEZ. What is a girl supposed to do?
Oh, and I found out TWO MORE AWESOME PEOPLE ARE MOVING TO TX!! What is up with this MADNESS? :( Boo. Boo on TX and it's Galveston beaches.
The third speaker in church (dont remember his name) seemed not to be saying much but I felt his message. For some reason I almost teared up while he was talking. But I always do that. I am surprised when I dont bust out crying during the National Anthem sometimes.
I also talked to this girl at church named Katie. I am 90% sure she's some kind of deaf. Most of this validation came from the fact when I whispered and told her "I'll be right back" and she points to her ear and says, "I cant hear." So Im pretty sure I'm right.
I went to the YSA conference. LAME. Except for a few parts. And one really awesome part. Oh. Don comes up to me and says "I have something for you." And I'm thinking he's going to give me something like flowers or Apples to Apples but NO. He opens up his trunk and gives me 3 plastic grocery bags full of glass bottles. Ragu sauce and stuff. What I've always wanted. I make one comment about recycling glass around him and now I'm known as the dumpster lady. In all honesty, I was really glad that he brought the glass for me to recycle for him. He's a surprising guy. Sometimes. He still has the tact of a Caterpillar Tractor at times (worst analogy ever). He danced with this Asian girl that had graduated college and he told me he was about to tell her that Asians tend to age well because she looked a lot younger than that. . . .
I also got kinda bored at the testimony meeting and I wanted to get gas sooner rather than later ... so I left the testimony meeting. I went to WalMart and just bought Apples to Apples for myself. I dont know when I'm going to be around more than 3 or 4 people to play it, but I'll have the game with me just in case now. All is well.
I saw Stone Mountain behind the WalMart and I kinda wanted to drop by but I didnt because I was by myself and Stone Mountain isnt really a by yourself type of place.
I knew that the new Hindu Mandir was closeby. So I tried to use my VZ Navigator to find it. The new Mandir is the largest in the USA and really beautiful, ornate, and marble-y. I was hoping it was open till about 9 so I could take my shoes off and drop inside for a bit. But my VZ Navigator took me somewhere that wasnt it. I ended up at this Hindu Temple that looked like the edge of a clown drum - red and yellow triangles painted on the sides. It was pretty tacky. Might be beautiful to the Hindus though. I should have searched for a Publix that was closeby. Since I remember the Publix right next to the Mandir that I wanted to go to. . . .
(I just got off the phone with my mom. I told her I went to the YSA Conference and she goes, "[in a southern accent] What? You went to the gay concert?")
Some of the guys I talked to were just insufferably, uh whats the right word?, dense? I seriously have a better time talking to myself in a mirror. Lets just hope they were nervous or maybe 13 years old that snuck into the dance.
But not all the guys were like that. I'm mainly thinking of the Clay Aiken look alike (the one that held my hand really weird and had his other hand up my armpit while we were dancing ... that one.)
Sunday
So I went to church ready to learn about Jesus. And, UHHHH!, I could hardly focus because of this hot mess of a man sitting front right of me. GEEZ. What is a girl supposed to do?
Oh, and I found out TWO MORE AWESOME PEOPLE ARE MOVING TO TX!! What is up with this MADNESS? :( Boo. Boo on TX and it's Galveston beaches.
The third speaker in church (dont remember his name) seemed not to be saying much but I felt his message. For some reason I almost teared up while he was talking. But I always do that. I am surprised when I dont bust out crying during the National Anthem sometimes.
I also talked to this girl at church named Katie. I am 90% sure she's some kind of deaf. Most of this validation came from the fact when I whispered and told her "I'll be right back" and she points to her ear and says, "I cant hear." So Im pretty sure I'm right.
June 6, 2008
AWWWW!!
This guy at work (who I kinda didnt want to talk to so I pretended to be busy) was like "whatcha up to this weekend?"
and I was like "nothing just going to be poor." (which is kinda true ... but not as bad as i made it seemed).
And he walks off.
A few minutes later he comes back and throws $40 on my desk. and he has less money than me it seems (or he's just as bad at handling it or something).
i tried to give it back to him bc i dont think i will need it.
and i kinda teared up because it was so nice of him.
im just like emotional or something because im trying to be a better person and i know i will lose all of my friends (or they'll make fun of me or ridicule me for attending church - im already hearing how "stupid" i am for going from one of them). and it hurts my feelings. i dont do that to them with their decisions. why to me? and then sbz is going to be moving to tx. im going to be friendless and alone and its going to suck.
see? im getting teary eyed again.
im a fragile soul.
and I was like "nothing just going to be poor." (which is kinda true ... but not as bad as i made it seemed).
And he walks off.
A few minutes later he comes back and throws $40 on my desk. and he has less money than me it seems (or he's just as bad at handling it or something).
i tried to give it back to him bc i dont think i will need it.
and i kinda teared up because it was so nice of him.
im just like emotional or something because im trying to be a better person and i know i will lose all of my friends (or they'll make fun of me or ridicule me for attending church - im already hearing how "stupid" i am for going from one of them). and it hurts my feelings. i dont do that to them with their decisions. why to me? and then sbz is going to be moving to tx. im going to be friendless and alone and its going to suck.
see? im getting teary eyed again.
im a fragile soul.
YSA Conference?
Okay I havent been to a church dance in a really long time. So Amy wanted to go to the YSA Conference and I will definitely go with her. And now I cant get a hold of her and dont really have any plans tonight .... DO I GO? I dont know ANYONE. I mean, of course I know people. But I dont KNOW anyone. I need someone to talk to during the times when people are talking to the other people they know. JEEZ. Im not really a wall flower dont make me one now LIFE. Ugh, Im preliminarily freaking out. This is so unnecessary.
I havent SSLLLLLOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWW danced in forever. Since my last church dance. (well, Ive certainly danced with guys but not in the church dance way). ANd I remember the last times not really getting asked to dance too much (I think my hair scared them off ... or maybe it was the folded arms and scowl? who knows with men they are so fickle). I've gained weight. Are they going to notice? Like through my shirt? Better wear my sweatshirt ... y'know. The thick dark blue one. In the dark, no one will be able to see me.
I wish it was all classes and no socializing. That would be fun. Kind of like school. Or institute. But without that time after Institute where you make plans to go eat hot dogs and whatnot. Man, socializing isnt like subbing. If no one volunteered, I just called on their name and made them do it. If you want to "pass out papers" in the real world of socializing, you need to move out of slow lane and do it yourself (worst analogy ever).
Maybe I should go to the mall and buy two new shirts to ease my nerves.
Yes.
I'm feeling better already.
Wait, no seriously. Do I just stand there by myself if no one is talking to me? Is that what you do? I've never been in the position where I dont know anyone that much at a church dance. shopping. shopping shopping will make it all go away.
I havent SSLLLLLOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWW danced in forever. Since my last church dance. (well, Ive certainly danced with guys but not in the church dance way). ANd I remember the last times not really getting asked to dance too much (I think my hair scared them off ... or maybe it was the folded arms and scowl? who knows with men they are so fickle). I've gained weight. Are they going to notice? Like through my shirt? Better wear my sweatshirt ... y'know. The thick dark blue one. In the dark, no one will be able to see me.
I wish it was all classes and no socializing. That would be fun. Kind of like school. Or institute. But without that time after Institute where you make plans to go eat hot dogs and whatnot. Man, socializing isnt like subbing. If no one volunteered, I just called on their name and made them do it. If you want to "pass out papers" in the real world of socializing, you need to move out of slow lane and do it yourself (worst analogy ever).
Maybe I should go to the mall and buy two new shirts to ease my nerves.
Yes.
I'm feeling better already.
Wait, no seriously. Do I just stand there by myself if no one is talking to me? Is that what you do? I've never been in the position where I dont know anyone that much at a church dance. shopping. shopping shopping will make it all go away.
we park our cars in the same garage
Harrison Bergeron
by Kurt Vonnegut (1961)
THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren't only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.
Some things about living still weren't quite right, though. April, for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron's fourteen-year-old son, Harrison, away.
It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn't think about it very hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn't think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair advantage of their brains.
George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel's cheeks, but she'd forgotten for the moment what they were about.
On the television screen were ballerinas.
A buzzer sounded in George's head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm.
"That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did," said Hazel.
"Huh?" said George.
"That dance - it was nice," said Hazel.
"Yup," said George. He tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They weren't really very good - no better than anybody else would have been, anyway. They were burdened with sashweights and bags of birdshot, and their faces were masked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, would feel like something the cat drug in. George was toying with the vague notion that maybe dancers shouldn't be handicapped. But he didn't get very far with it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his thoughts.
George winced. So did two out of the eight ballerinas.
Hazel saw him wince. Having no mental handicap herself she had to ask George what the latest sound had been.
"Sounded like somebody hitting a milk bottle with a ball peen hammer," said George.
"I'd think it would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds," said Hazel, a little envious. "All the things they think up."
"Um," said George.
"Only, if I was Handicapper General, you know what I would do?" said Hazel. Hazel, as a matter of fact, bore a strong resemblance to the Handicapper General, a woman named Diana Moon Glampers. "If I was Diana Moon Glampers," said Hazel, "I'd have chimes on Sunday - just chimes. Kind of in honor of religion."
"I could think, if it was just chimes," said George.
"Well - maybe make 'em real loud," said Hazel. "I think I'd make a good Handicapper General."
"Good as anybody else," said George.
"Who knows better'n I do what normal is?" said Hazel.
"Right," said George. He began to think glimmeringly about his abnormal son who was now in jail, about Harrison, but a twenty-one-gun salute in his head stopped that.
"Boy!" said Hazel, "that was a doozy, wasn't it?"
It was such a doozy that George was white and trembling and tears stood on the rims of his red eyes. Two of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the studio floor, were holding their temples.
"All of a sudden you look so tired," said Hazel. "Why don't you stretch out on the sofa, so's you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch." She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in canvas bag, which was padlocked around George's neck. "Go on and rest the bag for a little while," she said. "I don't care if you're not equal to me for a while."
George weighed the bag with his hands. "I don't mind it," he said. "I don't notice it any more. It's just a part of me.
"You been so tired lately - kind of wore out," said Hazel. "If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few."
"Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out," said George. "I don't call that a bargain."
"If you could just take a few out when you came home from work," said Hazel. "I mean - you don't compete with anybody around here. You just set around."
"If I tried to get away with it," said George, "then other people'd get away with it and pretty soon we'd be right back to the dark ages again, with everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn't like that, would you?"
"I'd hate it," said Hazel.
"There you are," said George. "The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?"
If Hazel hadn't been able to come up with an answer to this question, George couldn't have supplied one. A siren was going off in his head.
"Reckon it'd fall all apart," said Hazel.
"What would?" said George blankly.
"Society," said Hazel uncertainly. "Wasn't that what you just said?"
"Who knows?" said George.
The television program was suddenly interrupted for a news bulletin. It wasn't clear at first as to what the bulletin was about, since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment. For about half a minute, and in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say, "Ladies and gentlemen - "
He finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read.
"That's all right -" Hazel said of the announcer, "he tried. That's the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard."
"Ladies and gentlemen" said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was hideous. And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and most graceful of all the dancers, for her handicap bags were as big as those worn by two-hundred-pound men.
And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was a very unfair voice for a woman to use. Her voice was a warm, luminous, timeless melody. "Excuse me - " she said, and she began again, making her voice absolutely uncompetitive.
"Harrison Bergeron, age fourteen," she said in a grackle squawk, "has just escaped from jail, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the government. He is a genius and an athlete, is under-handicapped, and should be regarded as extremely dangerous."
A police photograph of Harrison Bergeron was flashed on the screen - upside down, then sideways, upside down again, then right side up. The picture showed the full length of Harrison against a background calibrated in feet and inches. He was exactly seven feet tall.
The rest of Harrison's appearance was Halloween and hardware. Nobody had ever worn heavier handicaps. He had outgrown hindrances faster than the H-G men could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a tremendous pair of earphones, and spectacles with thick wavy lenses. The spectacles were intended to make him not only half blind, but to give him whanging headaches besides.
Scrap metal was hung all over him. Ordinarily, there was a certain symmetry, a military neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but Harrison looked like a walking junkyard. In the race of life, Harrison carried three hundred pounds.
And to offset his good looks, the H-G men required that he wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his even white teeth with black caps at snaggle-tooth random.
"If you see this boy," said the ballerina, "do not - I repeat, do not - try to reason with him."
There was the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges.
Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The photograph of Harrison Bergeron on the screen jumped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake.
George Bergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have - for many was the time his own home had danced to the same crashing tune. "My God -" said George, "that must be Harrison!"
The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of an automobile collision in his head.
When George could open his eyes again, the photograph of Harrison was gone. A living, breathing Harrison filled the screen.
Clanking, clownish, and huge, Harrison stood in the center of the studio. The knob of the uprooted studio door was still in his hand. Ballerinas, technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on their knees before him, expecting to die.
"I am the Emperor!" cried Harrison. "Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody must do what I say at once!" He stamped his foot and the studio shook.
"Even as I stand here -" he bellowed, "crippled, hobbled, sickened - I am a greater ruler than any man who ever lived! Now watch me become what I can become!"
Harrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper, tore straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds.
Harrison's scrap-iron handicaps crashed to the floor.
Harrison thrust his thumbs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head harness. The bar snapped like celery. Harrison smashed his headphones and spectacles against the wall.
He flung away his rubber-ball nose, revealed a man that would have awed Thor, the god of thunder.
"I shall now select my Empress!" he said, looking down on the cowering people. "Let the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!"
A moment passed, and then a ballerina arose, swaying like a willow.
Harrison plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all, he removed her mask.
She was blindingly beautiful.
"Now" said Harrison, taking her hand, "shall we show the people the meaning of the word dance? Music!" he commanded.
The musicians scrambled back into their chairs, and Harrison stripped them of their handicaps, too. "Play your best," he told them, "and I'll make you barons and dukes and earls."
The music began. It was normal at first - cheap, silly, false. But Harrison snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs.
The music began again and was much improved.
Harrison and his Empress merely listened to the music for a while - listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats with it.
They shifted their weights to their toes.
Harrison placed his big hands on the girl's tiny waist, letting her sense the weightlessness that would soon be hers.
And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang!
Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the laws of motion as well.
They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun.
They leaped like deer on the moon.
The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it. It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling.
They kissed it.
And then, neutralizing gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long time.
It was then that Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, came into the studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor.
Diana Moon Glampers loaded the gun again. She aimed it at the musicians and told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on.
It was then that the Bergerons' television tube burned out.
Hazel turned to comment about the blackout to George.
But George had gone out into the kitchen for a can of beer.
George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up. And then he sat down again. "You been crying?" he said to Hazel.
"Yup," she said,
"What about?" he said.
"I forget," she said. "Something real sad on television."
"What was it?" he said.
"It's all kind of mixed up in my mind," said Hazel.
"Forget sad things," said George.
"I always do," said Hazel.
"That's my girl," said George. He winced. There was the sound of a riveting gun in his head.
"Gee - I could tell that one was a doozy," said Hazel.
"You can say that again," said George.
"Gee -" said Hazel, "I could tell that one was a doozy."
by Kurt Vonnegut (1961)
THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren't only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.
Some things about living still weren't quite right, though. April, for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron's fourteen-year-old son, Harrison, away.
It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn't think about it very hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn't think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair advantage of their brains.
George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel's cheeks, but she'd forgotten for the moment what they were about.
On the television screen were ballerinas.
A buzzer sounded in George's head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm.
"That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did," said Hazel.
"Huh?" said George.
"That dance - it was nice," said Hazel.
"Yup," said George. He tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They weren't really very good - no better than anybody else would have been, anyway. They were burdened with sashweights and bags of birdshot, and their faces were masked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, would feel like something the cat drug in. George was toying with the vague notion that maybe dancers shouldn't be handicapped. But he didn't get very far with it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his thoughts.
George winced. So did two out of the eight ballerinas.
Hazel saw him wince. Having no mental handicap herself she had to ask George what the latest sound had been.
"Sounded like somebody hitting a milk bottle with a ball peen hammer," said George.
"I'd think it would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds," said Hazel, a little envious. "All the things they think up."
"Um," said George.
"Only, if I was Handicapper General, you know what I would do?" said Hazel. Hazel, as a matter of fact, bore a strong resemblance to the Handicapper General, a woman named Diana Moon Glampers. "If I was Diana Moon Glampers," said Hazel, "I'd have chimes on Sunday - just chimes. Kind of in honor of religion."
"I could think, if it was just chimes," said George.
"Well - maybe make 'em real loud," said Hazel. "I think I'd make a good Handicapper General."
"Good as anybody else," said George.
"Who knows better'n I do what normal is?" said Hazel.
"Right," said George. He began to think glimmeringly about his abnormal son who was now in jail, about Harrison, but a twenty-one-gun salute in his head stopped that.
"Boy!" said Hazel, "that was a doozy, wasn't it?"
It was such a doozy that George was white and trembling and tears stood on the rims of his red eyes. Two of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the studio floor, were holding their temples.
"All of a sudden you look so tired," said Hazel. "Why don't you stretch out on the sofa, so's you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch." She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in canvas bag, which was padlocked around George's neck. "Go on and rest the bag for a little while," she said. "I don't care if you're not equal to me for a while."
George weighed the bag with his hands. "I don't mind it," he said. "I don't notice it any more. It's just a part of me.
"You been so tired lately - kind of wore out," said Hazel. "If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few."
"Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out," said George. "I don't call that a bargain."
"If you could just take a few out when you came home from work," said Hazel. "I mean - you don't compete with anybody around here. You just set around."
"If I tried to get away with it," said George, "then other people'd get away with it and pretty soon we'd be right back to the dark ages again, with everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn't like that, would you?"
"I'd hate it," said Hazel.
"There you are," said George. "The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?"
If Hazel hadn't been able to come up with an answer to this question, George couldn't have supplied one. A siren was going off in his head.
"Reckon it'd fall all apart," said Hazel.
"What would?" said George blankly.
"Society," said Hazel uncertainly. "Wasn't that what you just said?"
"Who knows?" said George.
The television program was suddenly interrupted for a news bulletin. It wasn't clear at first as to what the bulletin was about, since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment. For about half a minute, and in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say, "Ladies and gentlemen - "
He finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read.
"That's all right -" Hazel said of the announcer, "he tried. That's the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard."
"Ladies and gentlemen" said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was hideous. And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and most graceful of all the dancers, for her handicap bags were as big as those worn by two-hundred-pound men.
And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was a very unfair voice for a woman to use. Her voice was a warm, luminous, timeless melody. "Excuse me - " she said, and she began again, making her voice absolutely uncompetitive.
"Harrison Bergeron, age fourteen," she said in a grackle squawk, "has just escaped from jail, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the government. He is a genius and an athlete, is under-handicapped, and should be regarded as extremely dangerous."
A police photograph of Harrison Bergeron was flashed on the screen - upside down, then sideways, upside down again, then right side up. The picture showed the full length of Harrison against a background calibrated in feet and inches. He was exactly seven feet tall.
The rest of Harrison's appearance was Halloween and hardware. Nobody had ever worn heavier handicaps. He had outgrown hindrances faster than the H-G men could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a tremendous pair of earphones, and spectacles with thick wavy lenses. The spectacles were intended to make him not only half blind, but to give him whanging headaches besides.
Scrap metal was hung all over him. Ordinarily, there was a certain symmetry, a military neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but Harrison looked like a walking junkyard. In the race of life, Harrison carried three hundred pounds.
And to offset his good looks, the H-G men required that he wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his even white teeth with black caps at snaggle-tooth random.
"If you see this boy," said the ballerina, "do not - I repeat, do not - try to reason with him."
There was the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges.
Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The photograph of Harrison Bergeron on the screen jumped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake.
George Bergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have - for many was the time his own home had danced to the same crashing tune. "My God -" said George, "that must be Harrison!"
The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of an automobile collision in his head.
When George could open his eyes again, the photograph of Harrison was gone. A living, breathing Harrison filled the screen.
Clanking, clownish, and huge, Harrison stood in the center of the studio. The knob of the uprooted studio door was still in his hand. Ballerinas, technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on their knees before him, expecting to die.
"I am the Emperor!" cried Harrison. "Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody must do what I say at once!" He stamped his foot and the studio shook.
"Even as I stand here -" he bellowed, "crippled, hobbled, sickened - I am a greater ruler than any man who ever lived! Now watch me become what I can become!"
Harrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper, tore straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds.
Harrison's scrap-iron handicaps crashed to the floor.
Harrison thrust his thumbs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head harness. The bar snapped like celery. Harrison smashed his headphones and spectacles against the wall.
He flung away his rubber-ball nose, revealed a man that would have awed Thor, the god of thunder.
"I shall now select my Empress!" he said, looking down on the cowering people. "Let the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!"
A moment passed, and then a ballerina arose, swaying like a willow.
Harrison plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all, he removed her mask.
She was blindingly beautiful.
"Now" said Harrison, taking her hand, "shall we show the people the meaning of the word dance? Music!" he commanded.
The musicians scrambled back into their chairs, and Harrison stripped them of their handicaps, too. "Play your best," he told them, "and I'll make you barons and dukes and earls."
The music began. It was normal at first - cheap, silly, false. But Harrison snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs.
The music began again and was much improved.
Harrison and his Empress merely listened to the music for a while - listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats with it.
They shifted their weights to their toes.
Harrison placed his big hands on the girl's tiny waist, letting her sense the weightlessness that would soon be hers.
And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang!
Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the laws of motion as well.
They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun.
They leaped like deer on the moon.
The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it. It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling.
They kissed it.
And then, neutralizing gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long time.
It was then that Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, came into the studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor.
Diana Moon Glampers loaded the gun again. She aimed it at the musicians and told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on.
It was then that the Bergerons' television tube burned out.
Hazel turned to comment about the blackout to George.
But George had gone out into the kitchen for a can of beer.
George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up. And then he sat down again. "You been crying?" he said to Hazel.
"Yup," she said,
"What about?" he said.
"I forget," she said. "Something real sad on television."
"What was it?" he said.
"It's all kind of mixed up in my mind," said Hazel.
"Forget sad things," said George.
"I always do," said Hazel.
"That's my girl," said George. He winced. There was the sound of a riveting gun in his head.
"Gee - I could tell that one was a doozy," said Hazel.
"You can say that again," said George.
"Gee -" said Hazel, "I could tell that one was a doozy."
June 5, 2008
Been deathly ill thanks for the phone calls
Okay I have been sick since this past Friday (May 30th). Was sick over the weekend. Was sick on Monday (arent we all on Mondays?). Went to work on Tuesday just to start crying. I dont know if youve ever been so sick where you tear up, but it sucks. So I went home on Tuesday and slept. Woke up and took out the trash, did a load of laundry, saw it was 9 pm and said, "well, time for bed!" and went to sleep some more. Went to Target in between the sleeping and got some Robitussin DM. Took lots and lots of that. Then I went to work yesterday and started to feel better. Today I had a dentist appointment and that was a bit of suck but I'm hanging in there. My nose is all stuffed up still. But I think I'll live.
I was just looking at my blog and I noticed I had my previous uplifting blog with the spiritual quote RIGHT AFTER a quote where Denzel WAshington is mad that someone was wiping his alpaca rug. They dont read all that well next to each other.
OH YEAH. My dentist is LDS (I think he used to be/is? the patriarch). And he ALWAYS asks me if Im dating anyone. Man, with him and my mom ...
I was just looking at my blog and I noticed I had my previous uplifting blog with the spiritual quote RIGHT AFTER a quote where Denzel WAshington is mad that someone was wiping his alpaca rug. They dont read all that well next to each other.
OH YEAH. My dentist is LDS (I think he used to be/is? the patriarch). And he ALWAYS asks me if Im dating anyone. Man, with him and my mom ...
"I would say about individuals: an individual dies when he ceases to be surprised. What keeps me alive — spiritually, emotionally, intellectually — is my ability to be surprised. I say, I take nothing for granted. I am surprised every morning that I see the sun shine again. When I see an act of evil, I am not accommodated — I don't accommodate myself to the violence that goes on everywhere. I'm still surprised. That's why I'm against it; why I can fight against it. We must learn how to be surprised, not to adjust ourselves. I am the most maladjusted person in society."
Abraham Joshua Heschel
Abraham Joshua Heschel
June 2, 2008
more american gangster
"hey hey hey hey! dont rub on that! you blot that! ya understand? thats alpaca! thats $25,000 alpaca. you blot that shiat. you dont rub it. put the club soda on there."
I think that should definitely be a memorable quote.
I think that should definitely be a memorable quote.
randomosity
- i left the keys in the door for the second day in the row. this morning tim wakes me up and says, "hey i put your keys on the kitchen table. they were in the door." and then he was all smart ass and said that we didnt get robbed or anything.
- i walked zoey on the bike ... she tries to be the pack leader but cant when i ride the bike. 2 wheels are just faster than 4 legs.
- i'm watching american gangster. a few things:
some of the movie, denzel washington isnt even in america. he's in thailand. and then denzel doesnt play a good drug lord. like russell crowe and denzel should switch roles (except for that whole part where russell crowe is doing the lawyer-she says "eff me like a cop, dont eff me like a lawyer"-yeah, denzel washington doing that one scene? not so much). i'm sure there's a lot more deeper stuff to say about the drug war, good cop/bad cop, commercialization, community, etc. but yeah.
- i helped someone start up their car. they called me and i totally had no jumper cables. so i asked the mexicans across the street for (OKAY WOW DENZEL JUST SHOT SOMEONE IN THE HEAD!) some and he gave me one. the black lady next door was a little too old and i dont even think she knew what a car was. so i went to my friend, the victim of the not working battery, and she told me to turn OFF my working car while we attached them. and i thought you were supposed to keep the cars ON. so i call mick. and he talks us through the process. we hooked the plus up first (thats red for all you not in the know). and then my friend's jumper cable didnt have plastic on the part where you put your hands to squeeze the jumper cables. so we had 18 bazillion reassurances that it wouldnt eloctrocute us. and we touched the metal that was exposed on the jumper cables really fast to make the inevitable shock we were expecting quick and painless. thank god, no shocks. so we started up her car! 2 women of the 2000s! the worst part though had to be taking the unexposed jumper cable off ... bc it was charged up and all connected to the cars that were running. but we unhooked all the other 3 jumpers and got the guts to take the one without the rubber protective coating on the handle off. all while both cars were still running. we threw the jumpers on the grass so they could "ground" themselves. the person i had helped was a yoga buddy, so its not surprising that we felt the jumper cables had to ground themselves. okay i talked far too long about that.
(ooh denzel just said "the loudest one in the room is the weakest one in the room" bc he saw this snazzy dressed guy that is wearing pleather at a party. go denzel with your bad self.)
- i walked zoey on the bike ... she tries to be the pack leader but cant when i ride the bike. 2 wheels are just faster than 4 legs.
- i'm watching american gangster. a few things:
some of the movie, denzel washington isnt even in america. he's in thailand. and then denzel doesnt play a good drug lord. like russell crowe and denzel should switch roles (except for that whole part where russell crowe is doing the lawyer-she says "eff me like a cop, dont eff me like a lawyer"-yeah, denzel washington doing that one scene? not so much). i'm sure there's a lot more deeper stuff to say about the drug war, good cop/bad cop, commercialization, community, etc. but yeah.
- i helped someone start up their car. they called me and i totally had no jumper cables. so i asked the mexicans across the street for (OKAY WOW DENZEL JUST SHOT SOMEONE IN THE HEAD!) some and he gave me one. the black lady next door was a little too old and i dont even think she knew what a car was. so i went to my friend, the victim of the not working battery, and she told me to turn OFF my working car while we attached them. and i thought you were supposed to keep the cars ON. so i call mick. and he talks us through the process. we hooked the plus up first (thats red for all you not in the know). and then my friend's jumper cable didnt have plastic on the part where you put your hands to squeeze the jumper cables. so we had 18 bazillion reassurances that it wouldnt eloctrocute us. and we touched the metal that was exposed on the jumper cables really fast to make the inevitable shock we were expecting quick and painless. thank god, no shocks. so we started up her car! 2 women of the 2000s! the worst part though had to be taking the unexposed jumper cable off ... bc it was charged up and all connected to the cars that were running. but we unhooked all the other 3 jumpers and got the guts to take the one without the rubber protective coating on the handle off. all while both cars were still running. we threw the jumpers on the grass so they could "ground" themselves. the person i had helped was a yoga buddy, so its not surprising that we felt the jumper cables had to ground themselves. okay i talked far too long about that.
(ooh denzel just said "the loudest one in the room is the weakest one in the room" bc he saw this snazzy dressed guy that is wearing pleather at a party. go denzel with your bad self.)
Names
I saw this girl on television.
And her name was Tovah. That is so cute. A little too ethnic for me, but if I banged a black dude, then I could pull it off.
Oh, and from Teen Witch - Kiki. That is so cute! Who is named Kiki anymore?
Which brings me to Sweet Valley High. They had a Lila and an Enid. Good ones good ones.
More cute 4 letter/2 syllable names. So simple (4 letters) yet diverse (2 syllables).
Okay names I simply cannot stand. Names that end in -ee.
UGH seriously? Are you kidding me? Just stick an i at the end and voila! you're done. Whats with the two Es?? Or even a freakin *shudders* y. But not TWO E'S.
Bailee. Courtnee. Stupiditee. UGH.
Its like the mom was saying the name right when she went over the first drop on the Cyclone or Goliath.
And her name was Tovah. That is so cute. A little too ethnic for me, but if I banged a black dude, then I could pull it off.
Oh, and from Teen Witch - Kiki. That is so cute! Who is named Kiki anymore?
Which brings me to Sweet Valley High. They had a Lila and an Enid. Good ones good ones.
More cute 4 letter/2 syllable names. So simple (4 letters) yet diverse (2 syllables).
Okay names I simply cannot stand. Names that end in -ee.
UGH seriously? Are you kidding me? Just stick an i at the end and voila! you're done. Whats with the two Es?? Or even a freakin *shudders* y. But not TWO E'S.
Bailee. Courtnee. Stupiditee. UGH.
Its like the mom was saying the name right when she went over the first drop on the Cyclone or Goliath.
Stuff to buy
So I bought Teen Witch this weekend. I only have 30 bucks left in my checking account but I think it was a well thought out purchase. How much longer could I have lived a happy, healthy life without buying this gem of an 80s chick flick? HOW LONG I ASK?
BUT, I still need to buy Apples 2 Apples. And the expansion pack. So thats going to be like 45 bucks.
But I MUST HAVE IT.
(Just like I bought that nice Scrabble swivel board thats still sitting in my trunk. Unopened.)
So, back to Teen Witch.
I watched it with SBZ and Im sure she just absolutely adored it.
Brad is pretty dreamy.
And I cant believe Louise Miller's teacher pulled out her birth control from her purse. He totally deserved that voodoo doll thing.
And during the Top That scene, the guy that Polly likes ... HAHA His shirt is so short you see his stomach while he's dancing! I cried. OMG It was that funny.
Break a leg, Kiki!
BUT, I still need to buy Apples 2 Apples. And the expansion pack. So thats going to be like 45 bucks.
But I MUST HAVE IT.
(Just like I bought that nice Scrabble swivel board thats still sitting in my trunk. Unopened.)
So, back to Teen Witch.
I watched it with SBZ and Im sure she just absolutely adored it.
Brad is pretty dreamy.
And I cant believe Louise Miller's teacher pulled out her birth control from her purse. He totally deserved that voodoo doll thing.
And during the Top That scene, the guy that Polly likes ... HAHA His shirt is so short you see his stomach while he's dancing! I cried. OMG It was that funny.
Break a leg, Kiki!
movies
I wrote this in the LDS group so if you read my post in that one thread about movies, then you've already read this and you can just stop right now. But sometimes I write gloriousness in the Mormon group and it just needs to be documented in my blog.
Here are the movies I want to see coming out.
JUNE
Kung Fu Panda
Get Smart
Do not want: M Night Shamalyans The Happening
JULY
The Dark Knight
Hancock
Hellboy II (I KNOW IM LAME STFU)
Step Brothers
Do not want: Meet Dave (Eddie Murphy, nuff said), Mamma Mia, The X Files: I Want to Believe
Here are the movies I want to see coming out.
JUNE
Kung Fu Panda
Get Smart
Do not want: M Night Shamalyans The Happening
JULY
The Dark Knight
Hancock
Hellboy II (I KNOW IM LAME STFU)
Step Brothers
Do not want: Meet Dave (Eddie Murphy, nuff said), Mamma Mia, The X Files: I Want to Believe
Forgiveness!
Okay wow.
It seems like some of the more grand decisions about going to church that I've made have been 'verified' by something that happened after I made the decision.
I know that HF wants me to be in church at this time. Or perhaps He knew I was ready to come back at this time. (Who's to say that I'm supposed to be in the NP ward at THIS time ... I might not have been ready to come back during previous times so this time automatically becomes the time I was supposed to come back ... and perhaps there isnt any specific reason ... just the reason that I should be in Church.) Well anyways.
**I just reread this part & it kinda reads like the Princess Bride: Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me. Im just a lot less clever. Carry on.**
A few weeks ago, I really didnt want to go to church. Then I just went. And a hot guy sat near me. TOTALLY worth it.
Okay and then I went to Church this past Sunday and I wasnt plan on going because I was sick, I looked bad, I need to lose 10 lbs, etc. But I went. And then I just had this random thought that I needed to follow up with the Bishop about where I was in terms of the sacrament. And then I just ran into the guy that schedules interviews with the Bishop and he said there was an open slot right after Church (bc we all know I probably wouldnt have made it if I had to do it a Tuesday night or something).
So I went to Sunday School AND THE LESSON WAS ON CONFESSING AND FORGIVENESS! Now, I know if I had prepared and read the lesson I would have maybe automatically known that. But I didnt.
And with some of the stuff in the past that has happened to me, I know that I am supposed to be a member of this Church. Uhh, and not just that the Church is true, but that I should learn about repentance and justice versus mercy. Like I've gone deeper than the whole "Is the Church true?" question ... but onto specific dogma that I am not really seeking out to find out the truthfulness of ... but that through diligence and random following through of ideas in my head ... that I've grown to receive a strong testimony about.
The evidence is just too overwhelming. And I know I'm rambling.
So I have the song "The Heart of the Matter" by Don Henley in my head. Because of the part thats like "Forgiveness!" over and over again. But I think the song is actually about lost/unrequited love. And how Don Henley forgives the person who doesnt love him anymore. Not exactly the type of forgiveness that I was talking about.
It seems like some of the more grand decisions about going to church that I've made have been 'verified' by something that happened after I made the decision.
I know that HF wants me to be in church at this time. Or perhaps He knew I was ready to come back at this time. (Who's to say that I'm supposed to be in the NP ward at THIS time ... I might not have been ready to come back during previous times so this time automatically becomes the time I was supposed to come back ... and perhaps there isnt any specific reason ... just the reason that I should be in Church.) Well anyways.
**I just reread this part & it kinda reads like the Princess Bride: Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me. Im just a lot less clever. Carry on.**
A few weeks ago, I really didnt want to go to church. Then I just went. And a hot guy sat near me. TOTALLY worth it.
Okay and then I went to Church this past Sunday and I wasnt plan on going because I was sick, I looked bad, I need to lose 10 lbs, etc. But I went. And then I just had this random thought that I needed to follow up with the Bishop about where I was in terms of the sacrament. And then I just ran into the guy that schedules interviews with the Bishop and he said there was an open slot right after Church (bc we all know I probably wouldnt have made it if I had to do it a Tuesday night or something).
So I went to Sunday School AND THE LESSON WAS ON CONFESSING AND FORGIVENESS! Now, I know if I had prepared and read the lesson I would have maybe automatically known that. But I didnt.
And with some of the stuff in the past that has happened to me, I know that I am supposed to be a member of this Church. Uhh, and not just that the Church is true, but that I should learn about repentance and justice versus mercy. Like I've gone deeper than the whole "Is the Church true?" question ... but onto specific dogma that I am not really seeking out to find out the truthfulness of ... but that through diligence and random following through of ideas in my head ... that I've grown to receive a strong testimony about.
The evidence is just too overwhelming. And I know I'm rambling.
So I have the song "The Heart of the Matter" by Don Henley in my head. Because of the part thats like "Forgiveness!" over and over again. But I think the song is actually about lost/unrequited love. And how Don Henley forgives the person who doesnt love him anymore. Not exactly the type of forgiveness that I was talking about.
Can I just tell you what this jealous shortie said??!!
Okay so this short girl at church told me that the only way tall girls can get married is if they are model/waif thin! OMG! Who SAYS that?
So this Sunday I wore my wedges that definitely put me in the 6 foot range.
Being tall is awesome and she's just jealous that miniskirts hit her at the knee.
NOTES TO SELF:
Clean up floor before you start walking in bedroom in wedges. I seriously almost broke an ankle when I stepped on a shirt. I guess its a high center of gravity thing ... I dont know really what happened. At first I was like ... OH NOES I just stepped on my white shirt! And then I was like ... OH NOES the floor is heading towards my face at an incredibly fast pace.
Walking in heels definitely works out something in the legs. Not muscles. But certainly something ....
So this Sunday I wore my wedges that definitely put me in the 6 foot range.
Being tall is awesome and she's just jealous that miniskirts hit her at the knee.
NOTES TO SELF:
Clean up floor before you start walking in bedroom in wedges. I seriously almost broke an ankle when I stepped on a shirt. I guess its a high center of gravity thing ... I dont know really what happened. At first I was like ... OH NOES I just stepped on my white shirt! And then I was like ... OH NOES the floor is heading towards my face at an incredibly fast pace.
Walking in heels definitely works out something in the legs. Not muscles. But certainly something ....
is she ever not funny?
Chelsea Handler says that Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson were Les Be Friends.
HAHA HOW WITTY CHELSEA I HEART YOU.
HAHA HOW WITTY CHELSEA I HEART YOU.
sickly.
I dont know whats wrong with me but I havent been sick like this in years.
I am not THAT sick right now. Just saying that I was also sick last November. And I usually NEVER get sick two times within a year. This is madness.
Ryan [indirectly] said its because I'm getting older. He didnt say that was the reason, but when I told him that I usually dont get sick, he said "yeah me neither but now that Im older . . . " and then he gives me a look like we're in some old farts club or something.
Pshhhht. Whatever Ryan. Down with you and your oldness! I'll have none of it! I'm just sick because I have so many hot people sicknesses (ie, herpes and the hiking commercial sicknesses).
Devery says I have a Howard Cosell voice. Whoever that is.
I'll just assume Howard Cosell is a seductive woman who has pre Selma and Thelma cigarette voice.
I think I'm a little loopy and delusional from this sickness. I was seriously just singing "Unchained Melody" out loud at work (the LeAnn Rimes version).
NOTE: I was jking about the herpes. I have never even had a broken bone.
END BLOG.
I am not THAT sick right now. Just saying that I was also sick last November. And I usually NEVER get sick two times within a year. This is madness.
Ryan [indirectly] said its because I'm getting older. He didnt say that was the reason, but when I told him that I usually dont get sick, he said "yeah me neither but now that Im older . . . " and then he gives me a look like we're in some old farts club or something.
Pshhhht. Whatever Ryan. Down with you and your oldness! I'll have none of it! I'm just sick because I have so many hot people sicknesses (ie, herpes and the hiking commercial sicknesses).
Devery says I have a Howard Cosell voice. Whoever that is.
I'll just assume Howard Cosell is a seductive woman who has pre Selma and Thelma cigarette voice.
I think I'm a little loopy and delusional from this sickness. I was seriously just singing "Unchained Melody" out loud at work (the LeAnn Rimes version).
NOTE: I was jking about the herpes. I have never even had a broken bone.
END BLOG.
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