Sorry for:
...but evidently the stewardess was hessled by security and she was none too pleased.
"I had to take my shoes off and everything!!!" all the way down the aisle, pushing the drink cart.
And after Philadelphia, the flight continued on to Jamaica, so there were a lot of Girls on their way to Going Wild. Not as much fun as you might picture. But overall, not so bad either.
And now, instead of writing about going out, we are going out.
Ta.
There's a cast-iron skillet in my suitcase. I wonder if they'll let me through security?
I can't help but feel as if I'm sneaking out, but everyone (EVERYONE) knows that I'm going, so that's ridiculous. See you all from Philly. So there.
In other news, ex-boyfriend Dan evidently just re-claimed the Rubix Cube title. I feel, more than ever, that my life is a gen-X book. Josh Green, where are you?I keep finding new and interesting things to do on the InterWeb-Online! I wrote a Crushlist for Jim's Famous Monkey. Before that, I wrote an email about how I wasn't going to write a Crushlist. And then I got inspired to name my top ten favorite crushworthy Jims. Only the name Jim started looking funny to me and I couldn't come up with all that many crushworthy Jims. Or that many Jims at all for that matter. Happily, I was able to remember Jim Hodge and his spiky hair, and I apologize once more for ranking you only 6th. At the time, you were pretty crushworthy, but now, who knows.
I should write more verses to the "Procrastination Song".
What am I doing?!
Probably the "Interrobang" is something my dad made up, but I'm always disappointed that there's no way to superimpose a question mark over an exclamation point on the computer. Come on everyone, it's 2003 for crying out loud.
This is super dumb because I'm not putting off anything bad. I want to wake up at 4:45 tomorrow and go to the airport and fly to Philadelphia. I'm very very very excited to go. If I get into bed right now and make a serious effort, I can probably fall asleep for real by 3:30/4...
Alright, alright, I'm going to try it. Here's hoping the new New Yorker is very boring and puts me out instantly.
Pleasant dreams, internetters.
Well, much to my surprise, the chicken was wings with bones (as G-d and Nature intended, but not as I prefer) and it was so sticky and over breaded and slimy and kind of gross. A half-waste. And the pasta is pesto, but not creamy. More greasy than anything else. A single artichoke heart quarter in the center. Too many sundried tomatoes. And this stuff is supposed to be "satisfaction guaranteed" by the deli manager, but I just can't see myself stomping back over there to protest the quality of my meal in a plastic container.
But fortunately, my Brazillian mail order bride should be arriving any day now and I won't have to suffer these indignities any longer.
Belch.
"Do you sell chokers for children?"
There are a lot of lovely ladies in Brazil just waiting to meet you.
I'd also like to make a (sort of) public (sort of) apology to the fat kid I called "Chunk" at ______________'s Bar Mitzvah 3 years ago, you deserved it, but I didn't mean to say it outloud.
DING! There it goes again! Oh, just PayPal. Not a real Pal. Sigh.
I can't get enough Odwalla Summertime Lime. I scoffed at their hippie looking juice truck as I passed it every day on the way to work, but some time last week, someone else was buying, and I decided to go for it. Now I want them all the time. Lime. Mmmmm... My mouth hurts, but it's soooo gooooooood.
I have this secret fear that the thousands of job offers that were coming my direction may have broken things for everyone else....tee hee!
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Also, I have thus far spent the entire morning applying for fake jobs at scary big companies all across the InterWeb-Online! Are there actual real people who HotJobs (whom HotJobs) or Monster has worked for? I dutifully updated my resume (which had been lying dormant in their servers since before I started at the Monkey) and contact information and kind of wrote some sort of clever cover letters and CLICK! sent it all away to the great land of who-knows where NO ONE EVER GETS BACK TO YOU and you turn 50 at the bookstore...
But am I bitter? I'll get back to you on that later.
(ps: the rainbows are from the cling wrap. i'm not totally completely stupid...)
And Lento, I defy you to say this would taste better with an egg. Come over here and say it to my face why don'tcha?
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
Also, do you think it could involve free travel? Quick, someone nominate me to the top ten blogs for Japan!
Thanks, all!
WOW! There's a whole toolbar here in IE that I don't have at home with good old Safari. What does this do? Holy Hannah, I don't need HTML at all!!!
But what I really wanted to post about was how Erin and I were debating the merits of our own Avon True Romance titles for teens. Somehow Erin and the Mechanic sounds much cooler than Lauren and the Grad Student. I'll have to work on it.
LATER!!
i have vague intentions of baking a macaroni and cheese later, but this involves, among other things, going to the supermarket (yes, i do end up there almost every day, and still have no groceries to speak of). also, what do i eat while i'm waiting for it to cook? this probably just won't happen. ah well.
i'd like to also mention that i think i love "the postal service". everybody else seems to as well, but they're like belle and sebastian, only tolerable and smarter. at the moment i'm sitting in the office, and since Leila left, there's no stereo, just a tiny clock radio that doesn't get any stations all that well. i have it on WBCN and this is at least the second time today that i have heard whoever it is' cover of "boys of summer" which is OK, and really clever and charming how they change the line to "a black flag sticker on a cadillac", but not good enough to play as many times as they are. in general, i'm more than pleased with the direction WBCN and WFNX are leaning these days, but i'm sure both stations have gigantic catalogues. there shouldn't be this much repetition. and "chicks who rock" weekend should be more chicks. they're still playing a majority of the same old dudes.
additionally, the 'h' key doesn't always register the first time on this computer.
moreso, i had a fight with a customer this morning where we were both saying the same thing. getting her to realize this was an arduous process. but isn't it always? where are the delightful customers who ask for recommendations and then follow them? the ones that ask where they should eat and then bring you along (so that you don't end up in the office, eating a slice of pizza, listening to the radio for an hour)? where is Owen Wilson and why isn't he here, slipping me his phone number with his credit card?
furthermore, eating a slice of pizza while you type nonsense into a blog ("just write whatever you feel" sneers the text at the bottom of this screen) makes the pizza take longer. weight watchers should take note. also, are high school students being required to keep blogs these days? they should be. and they shouldn't be.
i'm still hungry. what are you going to do about it?
Is it any wonder I've taken up flossing again?
bagger: Paper or Plastic?
me: I don't care. Just as long as it's all in one bag
bagger: Paper then. It's easier to carry.
me: Sounds good. Then I can let the fruit ripen in it when I get home.
bagger: Yeah, that's a good idea.
But what did I walk away with?
.78 lbs nectarine white
.85 lbs nectarines
.68 lbs pluots
(that's 2 pieces of each, for those of you who don't speak scale)
2 jars of Ragu Super Chunky Mushroom
and 6 (charged for 7) Dannon newly tiny yogurts (that I may feel compelled to complain about later)
...INSIDE A PAPER BAG WHICH WAS ITSELF INSIDE ANOTHER BAG !!
TWO BAGS !!
Yes, it was lovely and easy to carry, but I didn't have that far to go. One bag would have been sufficient; foolhardy or not, it was what I asked for.
Why do the baggers always think they know what's best for me? OR... Maybe they do! Maybe I should go back there and get relationship and career advice from the baggers who know best.
I think I will.
2. acquiring a stereotypical 50s housewife-- i can't seem to buy groceries to save my life. i don't generally clean my room until i'm either a. bored or b. it's desperate or c. i have to move to a new apartment. laundry should happen more frequently and my bed would get made. then i would get to slam the door when i got home (see point #1) and complain about dinner not being on the table and about how i had to work all day. of course, then i would also have the burden of trying to reconcile my rockstar lifestyle and boyfriend to my wife, but these are bridges to cross when encountered, no?
3. private jet-- there are people i would visit much more often. and they would probably feed me.
4. my eye would stop itching-- the left one. and that the right one won't start.
5. being accepted and loved and slightly famous, either because of this blog or from singing to myself in the supermarket or by daydreaming at the counter at work-- pretty self explanatory, methinks
6. discovering my superpowers before work tomorrow--ditto
7. that the mold on the edge of the pasta sauce jar had nothing to do with the sauce inside the jar and that none of it came off in my pasta-- i may not be able to eat any of it, due to this fear. i will try to perservere.
I should mention that it's almost three and I have only eaten one giant Heirloom tomato. Couldn't tell you what kind.
