I am crazy/insane/mentally disabled/weird.
I have heard this many times. And I accept this. Really, I do. You can't have dreams about resorting to cannabalism while trapped on a stalled elevator without being a little on the strange side.
Ok, a lot on the strange side.
But I digress. Wait, no I don't. I don't have a point in the first place to digress from.
I ate the Velveeta for dinner this evening.
Oh god, it's late.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 11:03 PM
I found a battery on the gym floor today. It said "Energizer" on it.
I feel energized.
The rubber bands around my wrist are cutting off all circulation and my fingers are going num-
All better now.
There's Velveeta macaroni in the pantry that I really want to eat for lunch. But I can't, because there is an abundance of leftovers in the fridge. This happens every Saturday afternoon. I wonder if the Velveeta will ever have the chance to be eaten.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 12:39 PM
Friday, January 17, 2003
Threee (with three e's, mind you) day weekend, thanks to Martin Luther King Day. (Okay, he wasn't a president, but he's still dead.) I love it how schools try to be politically correct by giving us birthdays of dead black guys off.
That wasn't rascist. I'm just comparing it to say, Washington's birthday (as in George). They both lead revolutions that changed society (Different kinds of revolutions, I know, but important revolutions just the same). The only difference is that a) Washington was white and b) we don't get his birthday off of school.
"Holy flying potato chunks" is going to be my new exclamation of surprise.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:15 PM
Thursday, January 16, 2003
I've come down with my annual yes-it's-january/febuary/march cold. Sniff.
January/Febuary/March are really the worst months of the year. It's cold. There's slushy snow everywhere. There's no Christmas to look forward to. Warm weather is still months away. Sunrise isn't until at least 8 AM. I'm already done with a class by that time in the morning. By the time I get home in the afternoon, the sun is already setting.
If this weren't volleyball season, I swear I'd go crazy. If I weren't already crazy, I swear that previous statement would be true.
As if the weather wasn't enough, January/Febuary/March are the months where all other crappy things take place:
1. MEAP Testing (I hate standardized testing. I really do.)
2. Valentine's Day
3. Insert-Dead-President's-Name-Here Day
4. Lack of fresh fruit at le grocerie
5. New "Survivor", "American Idol", and "Crappy Reality Show #96" seasons
6. Much hullabaloo about fat guys falling over each other (IE: The Superbowl)
Fresh squeezed by melly at 4:41 PM
Pros and cons of wearing a necklace with beads made of rolled-up newspaper:
People stare at your neck
People attempt to read your neck
People attempt to place date, name of newspaper, and name of article for each bead
People stare at your neck
It looks wicked cool.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 3:36 PM
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
`Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'
`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.
`I don't much care where--' said Alice.
`Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.
`--so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.
`Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.'
Fresh squeezed by melly at 3:26 PM
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
I'm one of those annoying people who always wants to listen to the same song a bajillion times in a row before I'm satisfied. It takes me roughly a month to get through a 12 track CD, allowing proper time for repeat listenings every night before I go to bed, thumb permanetly set on the "Back" button.
First I'm drawn to the tune, then the lyrics. I soak in the guitar riffs; I commit every "oh" and "yeah" to memory. I page like a zombie through the CD insert, looking for hidden clues on the identities of the band- who the heck is Christa, and why are they dedicating the album to her?
Then I get bored of the tune that keeps repeating in my head, the lyrics start to turn me off, and I realize that Christa is probably some white-trash bitch working for Ticketmaster that slipped the band free tickets to a Paul McCartney concert.
And so I progress.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 9:21 PM
Monday, January 13, 2003
I have a serious problem with radio advertisements for TV shows.
For example, my family was driving to church yesterday morning. It was about 8:30 AM. My dad had the radio on, as usual. Commercials for a local club and Clearasil went by. Normal stuff.
Then came the sound of retching.
"First one to lose ten pounds wins a new bathing suit!"
More vomiting sounds.
"Did you just barf?"
Announcer: Watch the heart wrenching story on Lifetime...
Now really, folks, do we need to hear the sounds of lovely barfing at 8:30 on a Sunday morning? OR ANYTIME, FOR THAT MATTER? I think not.
Today, I was in the car going to volleyball practice. The radio was on, of course, and I was relieved to hear the godawful J.Lo get off the air. Until I heard the following commercial:
"Tune in to watch 8 families compete to have their life turned into a sitcom!"
Is it really necessary to have a reality show about a reality show? Is that what we've come to? Have the bugs on Survivor and cow brains on Fear Factor and lesbian sex on The Real World become so passe already???
Oh. Right. That's why J.Lo exists.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 9:23 PM
Sunday, January 12, 2003
I had a bright idea to turn this blog into a picture-a-day type thing. You know- "take picture having some relevance in relation to particular day. post. discuss".
But alas, I have not enough free hosting space to upload pics. And I'm too cheap to buy some.
So let me live my fantasy out for one day. Just one day, dammit.
ohh, it's my feet. and socks. and pads. and shorts. and shirt. in a bathtub.
i think that covers it.
I went to volleyball practice today. I was playing good at first, but then I got tired out after about 45 minutes because we didn't have any subs. So I spent the rest of the time panting for breath and looking at my feet. As shown above. (Except in above, I'm standing in the bathtub, because for some reason my camera was in the bathroom. I have no idea why. No dirty thoughts, sil vous plait.)
Ok. I'm done now. I won't try that again.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 7:30 PM