Wazoo?

i just got kicked out of Fort Kid.

there is ridiculousness coming out the wazoo right now.

also, i went inside the sun.

Children of DUNE

Secrets of the
Children
of
DUNE:

1. This is what it looks like to become a creature of the desert.
2. When you become a creature of the desert, you actually become half worm.
3. If the rest of your family went crazy, don't worry, you probably will too.
4. Prepare yourself for an obscene amount of inappropriate sibling relationships.

5. When planning a DUNE movie marathon, be sure to plan for about a 12 hour journey into the most amazing thing of your life.

DUNE

I think the genius which is DUNE can only be described in one way...and this is it.

FACT:

Mel Gibson's hair is a lethal weapon.

Sister Winter

O Tannenbaum

I just watched a man on television balance a Christmas tree on his face.

How Spectacular.

lost in the super market

i had a dream last night that i was in the grocery store shopping for cans of soup.

too bad none of the cans were these ones... how delicious does moose nose sound?

I Love Suprises, or Valentine Socks

i read in a book once or twice that it takes the average person 7 minutes to fall asleep. this is not true for myself, nor was it true for the kid in the book. i am beginning to believe that this is not true in general, with the exception of times when one is extremely sleepy.

this also is not the point.

the point in that i love surprises.... i mean, i absolutely adore them. my sister is especially good at surprising me, and tonight, she certainly did not let me down. whilst laying (or lying?) in my bed (for much longer than 7 minutes, i assure you), i slid my hand under my pillow in an effort to regain comfort. what did i find under my pillow? my sister's dirty socks with valentine hearts on them, or in other words, a surprise.

so maybe i don't love all surprises.

either way, bobby is still the best at surprising me.

George McFly

This is who I feel like when I wear my glasses.

A little love from the Cafe.

The following are all little truths from my magical place of employment.

1. Whilst seating a table of ladies last week, I chanted off my usual spiel about "enjoy your meal," etc. etc... Rather than
simply thanking me, like many guests, or just plain
ignoring me, like many more, one lady looked me
in the eyes and, as honestly as possible, said,
"You look like a thousand feet tall."
And it was probably true.

2. It's no secret the entire kitchen and cleaning staff at the cafe are from the land of Español, aka Mexico. About half of these fellow employees speak English. While this seems as though it may get
old after while, I actually find it quite delightful. Although
they cannot speak English, and we all know that semester of
Spanish taught me nothing I couldn't pick up from watching
Dora and Diego, we manage to communicate. My favorite
thing is that many of them have learned my name
and,rather than just saying hello or hola,
they like to sneak up next to me,
look in my eyes, and say
"Leeeeenseee!"
It really is precious.

3. Yesterday a girl came into the cafe and, hoping for a job, and handed me her resumé. This is a little strange, seeing as most hopeful applicants simply fill out our outlined application,
but it was not a completely ridiculous gesture. In fact,
there was only one minor detail which
would inevitably lead to
my mocking her.
She included a glamorous head-shot.

Oops.

Looks like someone has been neglecting her blog. Why does it look like this? Because today I received this:

dear tonto-
update your blog.
Thanks,
your adoring fans

Because of this little bit of demanding encouragement, I will be writing several little notes for ya'll today. Please Enjoy.

ACDC

You learn something new every day... and today is no exception. For example, my dear mother just informed that the term "ACDC" is also used in reference to those who "swing both ways." In the immortal words of Joan Jett, "AC...DC... She's got some other lover as well as me. AC...DC... She's got, some other fellow as well as me."

Thanks Mom!

Problem Solved.

Over the course of the past few weeks, a mystery has plagued my home. While normally we have more than enough drinking glasses to go around, lately we have all come up just a little short when reaching for a cup. What has caused these strange disappearances? Perhaps the dishwasher eats them, or drifters passing through take them for their collections... but alas. Today I discovered the true source....in my bedroom. Yes; there were four half-empty water glasses strategically placed throughout my room.

Perfection.

The Baby Sitter's
Mustache Club.
It's a good club
to be in.













(hint...click the picture to see it better.)

Twinners?

Ever notice how Leanne from Project Runway and Geof from Ace of Cakes are the same person? Yea. Me too. Not surprisingly, they also happen to be my favorites from each show.  I feel like if they ever met, the universe may explode... or they would just be best friends who would find it unnecessary to speak aloud to each, as their brains would be so in tune to each what the other is thinking. 

 

History.

It is no secret my family loves Trivial Pursuit. Here is the latest treasure.

Me: What was Hitler's Favorite movie?

Aubrey: Some Like it hot. 

Curious for the real answer? King Kong.

                      

FACT:

My Grandmother is by far the coolest person on Facebook. End of Story.

Dance! Dance! Dance!

The good news is, my two-year-old niece loves to dance.

The better news is, she also loves the Mountain Goats and the Unicorns, and we've been dancing to them all morning.

and now it's your turn.

http://www.last.fm/music/The+Mountain+Goats

http://www.last.fm/music/The+Unicorns

Trivial Pursuit: The Game Continues.

I'm sure most of my consistent blog readers remember my last Trivial Pursuit incident. For those of you who do not, read back a bit and call the number. For those of you who are just dying to learn something new, read on. 

What's the largest Dick on film?

No Joke. 

Dear John Travolta...

Thank You.

Never Again...

We just spent aprroximately 12 years playing Risk, and no one even won...

I need a cookie in a major way.

Fourteen

This is the number of couples I saw making out in the metro today.

Hot Water.

This is a blog in two parts.

Part Uno.

As any of you who have ever lived in Russia may know, they turn the hot water off for 20 days during the summer. Why is this done? I haven't the faintest idea, but I have been told it's for "Preventive Measures." At any rate, it is, in my opinion, entirely uncalled for. Luckily, the hot water was turned back on some time ago, but I will never forget those 20 days of the coldest, most awkward showers of my life.

Part Dos.

Old Russian people are very paranoid about their appliances/household items. For this reason, I try to avoid touching any of these while in the apartment. Unfortunately, there are times when this is unavoidable. In the shower the other day, I slightly touch the hot water handle, and it fell off. "Oh crap." That's what I thought. Luckily, the water was on, and I was pretty sure no one heard the terrible clanking noise the handle made as it hit the bottom of the tub. I managed to shove it back on and finish my shower, which was wonderful. After getting out of the shower, however, as I was all set to leave the bathroom and go to my bedroom, the handle fell off again. This time the old familiar clanking noise was unconcealable, and the woman I live with began pounding on the door. Rather than telling her what actually happened, like any normal person would have surely done, I felt responsible for the broken handle, and thought that if she would just go away, I would be able to fix the handle myself and no one would ever know. Cleverly, I told her i just dropped my razor, which is metal, and thus, the clanky noise. Well, she did believe me, and then said, "Oh. I thought you were going to say the hot water handle fell off. It falls off all the time." She then proceeded to enter the bathroom to show me how to fix it. I was trapped. Of course, I admitted that the handle did fall off in the shower, and she did not mind. In all of my worrying, however, I had shoved the handle under my towel, which was on top of something in the bathroom. This made for quite the awkward moment when she inquired as to the where abouts of the handle, and I had to reach under my towel to retrieve it. In the end, I realized it would have been nearly impossible for me to fix the handle myself, as she had to use a screw driver to fix it. Yes; I am rediculous.

How Unfortunate.

In a recent effort to save money, I have decided to limit my lunches to a piece of fruit. I generally enjoy a fairly large breakfast, and thus, this is not typically a big issue. Today, however, the banana I purchased from the nice lady behind the counter was slightly on the brownish side. Now, I know some of you may enjoy brownish bananas, but I happen to find them less than delightful. I now have a slight tummy ache, and I blame the banana entirely.

In other news, when I awoke this morning, I discovered my pinky finger on my left hand felt strange. I ignored it all day, but I've just discovered what appears to be a little buggy bite on it. Strange.

Because I Know You Don't Get It....

In regards to my latest post.... I know you don't get it. I know this because it is not a joke. As a child, I refused for years to admit this and, in turn, created the best answer known to man. Brace yourself.

Once there was a cow, and he was chewing gum, and his mother came along and stepped on a tree. Do you get it?

It was a baby tree.

Do You Get It?

Once, when I was little, I made up a joke. It was the funniest joke I had ever heard, much less made up myself, and I am pretty sure I told it to everyone who would listen. It went like this:

Once there was a cow, and he was chewing gum, and his mother came along and stepped on a tree. Do you get it?

So....Do you get it?

Don't Blame Me.

Dear Readers, 

As some of you may have noticed, and many of you probably have not, it  has been a while since my last bloggy. The reason for this is simple; I have watched 47 episodes of X Files in the last month. Blame Fox Mulder. 

Oh, and Dana Scully is a big lesbo. 

Thanks, 

Kenny Bloggins (my code name, in case you were unaware). 

Trivial Pursuit.

We all know this is an amazing game, but that is beside the point. One of the questions posed asks what this number (listed below) calls in the United States. My sister called it, I called it, and now, it's your turn to call it. 

202-456-1414

Make the Call.

I Love My Job.

Eighth Wonder.

Some People Love Them; Most People Hate Them; Everyone Wishes They Had Them... Special Agent Dana Skully's Bangs Truly are the Eighth Wonder of the World.

Delightfully Awkward

Whilst working EXTREMELY hard at my job, a coworker and friend who is, in no other words, delightfully awkward, decided to comment on my latest post. She was simply agreeing with prior comments about said post. Unfortunately for everyone involved (she and I, and everyone else in the LRC), she commented under my user name. What does this mean?

It means I said "ok, look, i agree. this was a good one" to myself.

While I do find this entertaining, she thought it was wildly amusing and erupted into bursts of laughter. At this exact moment, a patron approached the counter.

"Am I interrupting?"

no response.

As I returned to the counter with his movie, we explained the reason for the uncontrollable laughter. Rather than simply walking away as if we were absolutely crazy, this wonderful patron informed us that his sister calls him merely to ask if he will comment on her blog... Then, he actually thanked us for reminding him to both read and comment on his dear sister's little bloggy.

So congratulations, self, you've done it again.

Yellow Taxi Creme.

Several weeks ago, I made a horrible decision. Having left my pink nail polish at home, I was lost and confused about how I should repaint my nails before work. I could not just leave my nails splotchy; no way. I certainly did not want to spend the 99 cents on a new bottle of pink polish, as I already have approximately four containers of it in my own apartment. Then suddenly, whilst perousing the limited nail polish section in the Twilight Zone, something called to me. It was the container of Yellow Taxi Creme nail polish. I do not know what possessed me into thinking yellow nail polish would be a good idea, but I bought it. This may have been one of the worst decisions I have made all year. After painting my nails this atrocious color, I realized what I had done and quickly began peeling the yellow devastation off of my hands. I never painted my nails yellow again. In fact, the bottle of Yellow Taxi Creme still remains in the LRC, waiting for someone to finally throw it away-to throw all the yellow nail polish in the world away.

And then at work yesterday, a girl came in with those exact same Yellow Taxi Creme nails...I do not know this girl, but it was probably one of the worst decisions she has made all year.

Penelope.

I used to be a receptionist in my dad’s optometry office. Two or three days a week, I would file paper work, make appointments, etc. Right next door was this yummy pizza place, and naturally, I became friends with many of the employees there. This conveniently saved me lots of money on coke and breadsticks, but that is beside the point.

One day, two of the employees there decided I look like a Penelope, and thus, changed my name. From that moment on, I was known as Penelope in this pizza place. I assumed all of the employees knew this was just an alias; I mean, honestly, is Penelope even a real name? Well, shock arrived late one afternoon as I walked in to get my usual (half order of breadsticks and diet coke-mellow yellow suicide). As I approached the counter, I was bombarded with questions.
“Your name’s not Penelope?”-“I thought your name was Penelope!”-“I feel like I don’t even know you!”-“I can’t believe you let me call you Penelope this whole time!”

Let’s just say it was a sad day for many people as their hopes and dreams of my being named Penelope were crushed. Well, Ok, that’s a lie. It was a sad day for couple people who were gullible enough to believe my name was Penelope, which no one should believe, because let's be honest here, have you ever met any one named Penelope? No. you have not.

*Several years later, the wonderful employees of said pizza place still call me Penelope… they also still give me an employee discount.

You Smell Good.

As all three of my faithful readers may have noticed, I have a fascination with awkward compliments. I do not know why, but they are an amazing mystery to me; they are an art form. One phrase, which I feel can be deemed both awkward and appropriate (depending on the circumstances, of course) is a simple three word statement: You Smell Good.
I think my largest issue with this statement is the question of the appropriate response. Is it enough to muster out a simple “Thanks”, and let it be done? And what if I don’t think I actually do smell good? Does this need to be reciprocated with a “You do too”; even if I also don’t think they do smell good? Is it possible to simply remain silent for a moment, then change the subject- essentially pretending as though the comment was never said?
What I always want to say is something along the lines of, “Well thanks! I took a shower this morning, and I’m wearing Old Spice deodorant, so that’s probably why”.
Unfortunately, I do not feel as though this response would be socially acceptable, even though remarking on someone’s scent is.

Do Your Toe Nails Match?

Today as I made my customary trip to the Twilight Zone, I found myself in line next to a very talkative stranger. Wearing pink shoes, a pink shirt, and pink fingernail polish, this stranger decided to comment on my pink-ness.

Stranger: Your nails are very pink.
Me: Yes.
Stranger: Did you paint them to match your outfit today?
Me: No...They are always this color.
(moment passes...)
Stranger: Do your toe nails match?

They do match.

Huitres.

Today in French class I payed 69 imaginary euroes for a bag of imaginary clams, which I would not have eaten anyway.

What a rip off.

Super.

Last January I had some time off between school, so I immediately took the opportunity to visit my sister (and her wonderful family) in England. Traveling all by my onesies has never been an issue (and I should add, I still do not mind traveling by myself), but this particular flight home, I do wish someone could have been with me to share in this wonderful experience. 

Sitting calmly in my window seat, I waited for my fellow passengers to finish boarding the plane and silently hoped I would not be stuck net to a large man who, surely, would steal my armrest. I even went as far as to fear for the future of my overly-salted airline peanuts, thinking perhaps that he may try to take those as well while I was looking away. 

You can imagine my relief as a 20-something year old guy (who happened to be in decent shape) took his place next to me. Surely, I thought, he will know how to keep his arms and legs confined to his designated 4 by 6 inch space. 

    He did not. 

Much to my dismay, his large feet quickly found their way into my footy space. to make things worse, this stranger decided it would be a good idea to bring along some adult "reading" materials to pass the 8 hour flight. As I focused on my in-flight movies, he sat- tray table down, smutty magazines up. Some 20-something year old guy (who happened to be in decent shape) unfortunately took his place next to me, and got his kicks for approximately 5 hours of the flight without even being the slightest bit discrete. 

And his feet were in my footy space the whole time. 

True Story.

I got this "Anonymously" from a server at Mimi's earlier this evening. I sent him a not-so-anonymous note back that said "Thank You"...It was on a little scrap of paper with an octopus on it.

Thanks again...

In regards to my last post....

I was just reminded of yet another set of awkward gender related compliments...

Over the summer a girl I was friends with from class would often feel it her duty to let me know what she really thinks of me... it often went like this (I don't think my replies are necessary). 

Girl: I totally just checked you out. Sorry. 

Girl: I hope it doesn't weird you out that I stare at you during class. 

or, my personal favorite...

Girl: If you were a boy, I would totally date you. I told them (the class) that the other day. But I just wanted to let you know that if you were a boy, I'd date you. 

Thank You. 

 

Thank you...

If any of you have ever spent much time with me, you know I have an Adam's apple and am well aware of it. Perhaps it is the shorter than average hair. I don't know, but for some reason, I have received a number of very awkward gender related compliments...

Example one.

At some point during my time in high school, a girl I knew who often gave strange compliments decided I was worthy of one such compliment. We will call her Jan (that is not her real name).

Jan: You look really cute today Lindsey!
Me: Thanks Jan.
Jan: NO, I mean you look REALLY cute today.
Me: Um. Thanks.
Jan: No, you look like...boy cute! You look like a really cute boy.

Example two.

Some months later, I attended prom (my only ever school dance). True, my dress was green, but keep in mind I was also in heels and looking rather girly. Despite these facts, Jan decided to pay me another wonderful compliment, much like the first.

Jan: Wow Lindsey you look really nice!
Me: Thanks Jan, you too.
Jan: I mean you look really good! You look like Peter Pan.

Jan is not the only giver of these joyous compliments, however. Oh no, I have received them from others.

I worked at Mimi's Cafe for almost a year. For those of you have ever worked at, eaten at, or even been near a Mimi's Cafe, you know how much old people love Mimi's. They come from far and wide just for the Quisch Lorraine, but that is beside the point. Well one day, as I was fulfilling my host duties to the fullest...

Me: Ya'll can follow me right this way.
Old Lady # 5,000: What? Where are we going?
Old Lady # 5,001: Oh just follow this young gentleman right here (indicating myself).
Old Lady # 5,000: Oh right, I didn't even see him!
(several moments later as we reach the table, they notice that I am not, in fact, a nice young gentleman...)
Old Lady # 5,001: Oh! You're not a boy! Um... I really like...your...um...your hair! It just looks so nice on you...

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is true. I really am boy cute.

Please Tell Me...

Why is "Newsies" such a phenomenon amongst Mormons?



This is on my (long) list of things which I do no know, but would like to...

Oh Looksy

My first Blog ever... what is the world coming to?