Rise and Shine

This Morning I woke up with two things stuck in my head.

The first was the song "Be Gentle with Me" by Boy Least Likely To.

This is normal.

The second thing was the phrase, "Wacky hijinks ensue."

This is not normal. At all.

Procrastination

So, that plan sort of backfired.

After putting up the Lisa Loeb pics, now all the peole who were like, "What? Lisa Loeb? You don't look like her." are telling me,
"Actually, after seeing those pictures on your blog I can see the resemblance."

I mean, I don't care. She's certainly not too hard on the eyes, although she did have some bad hair going for a while (I didn't put up any bad hair pics. If I did look like her it wouldn't be the end of the world.

This whole thing is just sort of funny.

I'm listening to music right now and I'd like to take a brief moment to point out that the end of Depeche Mode's "Told You So" is terrifying.

In addition, I would like to point out that I am not at work. In fact I am supposed to be working on my 20 minute presentation that's due in less than 48 hours. Look at me go.

Just Call Me Lisa. . .

People keep telling me I look like Lisa Loeb. . . I
don't, other than the fact that we both have dark hair
and eyes and often wear glasses.

But in honor of all the random people I've never met saying
that I look like her, here are some pics.

Sucker Punched

So, last night I pretty much punched myself in the face.

Here's how it went. I was sleeping, and woke up because my arm had fallen asleep. It was way past pins and needles, to the point where it's completely numb and doesn't really feel like part of your body anymore and you're afraid to move it because it sort of feels like it might come off.

Yeah, it felt like that.

So I roll over on my back and lift up my whole arm from the shoulder straight above me (I believe that this was so I could "see" my arm and make sure it was still there despite being in the dark). Well, as soon as I relaxed my shoulder, I had no other working muscles to keep my arm up and it fell and hit me in the face. It hurt quite a lot. I never knew my own arm was so fricken heavy. I immediately fell back asleep while thinking, "I just totally punched myself in the face. . . My nose hurts. . .I should blog about this. . ."

Texting Too Much...

You know you've been texting too much when, while typing at your computer (which has a full keyboard) you need to type a punctuation mark but hit the number one key instead of the key dedicated solely to that punctuation mark. Sad.

(I'm speaking hypothetically, of course. I would never text that much or make such a silly mistake. . .*cough*)

There's Nothing Sad Like a Wild Muffler

See:

edit: I don't know why this isn't working.

You'd think it would be easy...

You would think that putting socks on your feet would be a simple task, wouldn't you?

This morning I failed to rise and shine at my appointed time. I was actually an hour and a half late for work. I could have been rather close to on time, but once I overslept a little I figured I already had a good excuse and decided to continue oversleeping. Note to self: if your phone is your alarm clock you should make sure that the volume is not turned off before you go to sleep.

Ok, back to the socks. So I'm finally up and trying to get to work. I sit down on the floor to put my socks and shoes on. I pull on my first sock but when I go to put on the other one, I can't find it. I search side to side, I stand up to see if I was sitting on it. I look in my drawer to see if it came unfolded and I only grabbed one. Nothing. The sock has disappeared. Thinking that I may be going crazy, I shake my pants legs to see if it's there. Nope. Then I give up and pull out another pair of socks from my drawer. When I pull up my pants leg to take off the original sock, there's the missing sock--stuck inside the one that's already on my leg.

How old were you when you learned to get dressed?

Random Thoughts from a Brain Full of Headache

Good Morning, dear readers. I know I've been a boring chocolate milk girl lately. I simply haven't felt like posting. It's not that I haven't had any stories, I just didn't want to write them.

One reason is that it has been very cold at my work, and all I want to do is sit huddled up in my chair or sneak into the back and stand in front of the heater. Actually, it's always cold at my work--I'm just colder because I've been wearing spring clothes. Now that the sun has decided to come back to our lovely state, it looks like it should be warm and nice outside all the time--and it is very often nice out. However, that lovely weather does not infiltrate my place of employ. Another reason I'm cold at work is that my little apartment is always a million degrees. It's steam heated and we don't have a thermostat--if it's too hot we have to open the windows. So I wake up, go out on the porch to see what kind of day it is, see that it's sunny, and I'm all toasty and warm in my little apartment--so the last thing I think of is wearing a big warm sweater because I'm going to work at my SUB ZERO office.

It's been a headache week like I used to get all the time. Owie. I really can't explain how awful it is to have a headache all day, go to sleep, wake up, and realize that you still have the headache. And you sleep awfully, especially if it's a nauseous headache--I'm really tired. Thankfully, I have an appointment with my Chiro tonight, and she'll make me all better by poking a bunch of little pins in me. Strange, but true. I'll do anything to get rid of these headaches, and that works.

In other news, there's been a lot of birthday-related shopping lately and I'm wearing a new shirt that I justified buying by saying "Well, I can wear it to work and it's long-sleeved (warm)." However, upon retrospect and wearing it to work, I'm actually sort of doubting it's inherent work-appropriateness. It's a drape neck, and very, er. . . drapey. Oh well. At least I'm doing something fun tonight, so it's not a waste of a good outfit. I just hate wearing nice things just for work. It doesn't make sense--I don't want to get dressed up for work! I want to get fancy for being with my friends and doing things that make me happy, not work. Ew.

Speaking of work, I have to go now.

I'm not afraid to say it.

Joseph Arthur is John Mayer for music snobs.

There, I've said it; I'll defend that statement to the grave.

Slug Bugs

So, this one time about two years ago, I went to visit my friend Corrie and her husband Sam at their apartment. Before they moved away I used to go over there a lot--no specific plans or anything, just hanging out. Corrie was working on a design for an Interior Decorating job she was trying to get, so the coffee table and most of the living room was covered in fabric samples, bits of paper, drawings etc. We were just chatting, catching up--you know, girl talk stuff. Then I got a phone call (from a boy who I would soon start dating). Corrie was sitting on the couch working on her project, and I was sitting on the floor next to the coffee table with my back against couch. Now, you may or may not already know this about me, dear readers, but I'm a very fidgety person. When I'm having a conversation, and especially if I am in any way nervous or excited, I cannot sit still. I play with my rings, or I tear up a napkin into little bits, or I mess around with whatever is in front of me.

Imagine this: I'm sitting there on the phone and I'm fidgeting. I'm messing about with all the little bits of fabric and things that Corrie has all over the place (remember that I'm not paying attention to what my hands are doing at all because I'm focused on this conversation with this boy). So I pick up a little bit of something, and--wait, something isn't right--I stop focusing on my conversation and look at what I'm holding. It's a slug. A Slug. A SLUG!

At this point I freak out.

"OhmygodIjustpickedupaslug." I'm hysterical. I'm practically rolling around on the floor shrieking --yes, shrieking--I! Just! Picked!Up! A! Slug!!!! !!!!! A SLUG!!!!

Corrie is laughing so hard that she's crying, Sam comes in from the other room to find out what's going on, and starts laughing too. The boy who I was talking to is laughing (and wondering what the hell is going on). I continue being hysterical.

I'm hysterical not because I'm scared of slugs. I'm not. They're gross, but I'm not phobic or anything. If I were at the zoo or something and there was a petting slug, I'd probably touch it. I'm more hysterical about the absurdity of the moment; I'm in someone's living room talking on the phone, and the next minute I'm holding a slug. This is not normal. This does not happen to people. You don't suddenly look down to see that you're holding a slug--except that I did. It took me quite a while to regain my composure.

I guess the moral of the story is "pay attention to what you're doing--you never know when you could be holding a slug."

100% Not B.S...At Least For Today.

I know I know, "But Chocolate Milk Girl," you're probably thinking, "So many of your posts are full of B.S.--especially the advice ones!" Well, not today my dear readers. Today I will share with you multiple Really Useful Things To Know.

The first of which is this:

Do you hate it when you have to get up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water and you turn on the light and then your eyes get adjusted to the light, and then you can't see when you try and walk back to your bedroom and you trip on the coffee table and really hurt your shin? Well, here's a simple solution. Keep one eye closed when you turn on the light. The open eye will adjust to the light and allow you to pour your water without spilling. When you're finished, turn off the light. Now close your "light adjusted eye" and open the eye that you have kept closed the whole time. This eye is still adjusted to the dark, and you will be able to see that damn coffee table. It's great!

Useful Fact the Second:

Also, do you hate it when your shoelaces come untied all the time, but also hate it when you tie double knots and they are such a pain to untie? Well, problem solved! When you tie your shoes the regular way, instead of looping once around the 'bunny ear,' loop it twice before you pull it through to make the second 'bunny ear.' This takes a little getting used to, but it holds really really well and unties just like magic! Yay!

Useful Fact the Third:

Do your coworkers steal your lunch from the work fridge? Simply make a delicious sandwich using "Fancy Feast" catfood, lettuce, tomato, and cheese, and leave it sitting front and center in the work fridge. Your coworkers should quickly cease and desist their thieving ways. . . or at least you'll get a nice sense of satisfaction.

I forgot the best thing!

I can't believe I forgot the share the very bestest thing of all about this week: It's now March!!!!
Yay! March is the bestest month ever!*

Why is March the Best Month Ever, you ask? Well, it's not because of St. Patricks Day (although being Irish I am fond of this Holiday). And it's not because the first day of Spring is in March (although that is VERY wonderful). Ok, ok, I'll tell you: March is my Birthday Month!

Oh Birthday Month, how I love thee. Why limit your celebrations to one day, when you can justify everything you want to do, buy and eat with four simple words, "It's my Birthday Month!" (this is only supersceded by the Birthday Week, and actual Birthday).

My bestest Birthday Month story is this.

Two years ago, I took myself shopping since it was my birthday month. I was at Rosedale mall, and was finished shopping and walking through the mall to get to where my car was. I passed a flower vendor, and because I LOVE flowers, I stopped to see what was there. As I was looking at some lovely pink roses, the flower seller came up to me and said, "Do you like those flowers? I'll give you a deal." The signs said that two dozen roses was $15.99 or something like that. I just kind of laughed and shrugged non-committally, and the guy went away to help someone else. I was still considering buying myself some flowers when the guy came back and said, "Come on, I'll give you the whole bucket for $15.99." I thought, It's my birthday month, I should get some flowers for myself. Then I said, "Sounds like a deal," to the flower guy. So I paid him, and he put the flowers in bags. There were four bunches of roses, so I felt like Miss America walking out of the Mall with this entire armful of pink roses.

It wasn't until I got home that I realized that there were actually TWO dozen roses in each bundle, so I 'accidentally' bought eight dozen roses for myself. I had roses everywhere, and I gave a bunch away. It was just absolutely lovely.

*You cannot fight with me about this. If you do you will be ruining my birthday month, and you might as well finish out the month by kicking some kittens. That will make you a bad person.

*Good* things about this week

1. Finishing a big project due for class on Tuesday. Spent much time working on it. Then, after handing it in, finding out that it was only worth 10 points. Ten, that's it.

2. Not being late to class. I got to be there for every minute of boring lecture, every stupid pontificatory question/statement made by people in my class who like to hear themselves speak, and I also got to hear everyone's explanations of how exactly they interpreted the project, and was that ok, because according to the syllabus, that should have been ok, and they should not be penalized for interpreting it that way, because in class the Professor said this, so that's why they did it that way. Ok?

3. Staying home from work on Wednesday.
--Roommate: sick
--Co-worker: sick
--Library school friend Amanda: sick

I didn't have a chance, especially since I didn't get that new immune system I asked Santa for this past Christmas.

Things that make me act like a baby:
1. Sore throats
2. Cough syrup*
3. Cough drops*
4. Not having straws to drink out of when sick.
5. Sore throats
6. Spiders (not sickness related)
7. Having to leave the house when sick
8. Sore throats
9. Cough syrup/Drops*
10. Sore throats

*medicine that you can taste.