Wednesday, Again, Really? We Have to Do Wednesday AGAIN?

I keep hoping that if I get a Wednesday right one of these times I can start skipping them. That would be awesome. It seems like there is some sort of cosmic deal that you can make and then you don't have to do your "lamest day" again and again. You get to skip it. Wouldn't that be awesome? I have sooo many good ideas like that. I should be in charge of the universe. I know, I know, it often seems like I do - or at least that I think I do, but I don't.

Today is a random bits and pieces day. As in, I'm going to share random bits and pieces. I'm sure it seems like that's what I normally do, but I like to think that I usually weave at least a thin thread of a story through my narratives...I also like to think that I wear a size 4, but that's pretty far from the truth as well.

• I started riding the Plaen View bus in the morning to school. It's not the most direct route, but if I am going at an odd time I can catch it. I have identified the crazy woman on the bus (no, it's not me...well, alright it might be me, but I'm not alone). I can't quite identify what it is that makes her crazy, but I've got a good feeling. Man, I should have become a clinical psychologist/psychiatrist, I've obviously got talent. She sat down really close to me for a few minutes today, apropos of nothing. She was sitting a seat away. Then suddenly, for no discernible reason she was sitting directly next to me. Then again for no reason (unless she could detect the "get away from me" vibes I was directing at her) she moved back to her original seat. And in case anyone is getting the idea that I don't like crazy people, untrue. I just don't like being touched.
  

• Today after work, Zach and I are going to dinner with our neighbors. They are two really nice guys and it should be a fun time. I'm looking forward to being social. No, I've not been body-snatched.

• Yesterday we had a tornado warning once again confirming that I am just horrible in an emergency situation. I can't be trusted. Parents - don't leave your children with me if we are going to have a crisis. I can't deal with it. I lose my stuff. When I heard the air siren go off (that's the classy way they alert you to danger from above) I immediately dropped everything and went to find Zach. He confirmed that he heard a tornado warning on the radio. So I made us go over to our neighbor's house because they've lived through a tornado before. It hit their building and everything. Actually, it would have been better to stay at our house because we have the more secure basement structure, but whatever. I like to have people with experience around me. So we went over there. And watched the news. And I just kind of huddled there muttering, "we're all gonna die, we're all gonna die." I broke the constant murmur only to occasionally shriek, "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE. WHY ME, WHY ME?" as the cable went out for a moment. I figured that the tornado knocked out the cable so that it could sneak up on us better. Long story short, TOO LATE, there wasn't a tornado near us. I mean, nothing touched down near us and it was over by 8 PM.
  

• I have to go work now. And by work I mean finish up my episode of NCIS on the computer before I go to class.
  

One Day Closer to Halloween

So it's October already. That's pretty crazy. I feel as though I'm in a paradox. I mean, I feel like every day is moving really slowly. But then when I think back to a point of reference it seems like time is moving really quickly. I feel like I just got to Iowa City, but I've been here since the middle of July. I didn't say it was a good paradox. Shut up.

I am excited for the prospect of Halloween though. I think Zach and I should dress up as ghosts in big white sheets and go trick-or-treating. We can just pitch up our voices and no one will ever know. Kids are getting really tall these days. I could still be an 11 year old. Is that too old for trick-or-treating? I can't be sure, I don't remember. I do remember that one Halloween being out with a group of girlfriends and we were walking down the street after a Halloween party (I am 98% sure this was a party at Sara's house and maybe that Sara, Blaire, probably Stacey were there) - we were probably 13 or 14 and these older boys in a car pulled up next to us and asked us how old we were and without missing a beat I said, "Too young for you." They just laughed and drove off.

That was a funny moment. I think we were right on the cusp of being at the age when talking to strange boys in a car might seem like a good idea, but my instincts were to just say something to break the tension and convey the "leave us alone" emotion. I tend to do that a lot. Convey true emotions using sarcasm and jokes. I'm sure I can hear a pin drop, such is the shocked silence of anyone who knows me. I am getting better at using words to say how I feel, but I still most often revert to joking around. Especially when I am really uncomfortable. When I get nervous I ratchet up the level of sarcasm until it's dryer than that Sahara...that was a joke that didn't really work there. There were too many factors for it to be successful. Ah well. We'll get 'em next time.

Huh, well. That was a strange post. I used a para-paradox to springboard into a pagan ritual to sail into reminiscing to talk about my feelings. From that description you'd think it would have been more interesting. But it is what it is.

GO CUBS!!!

A Series of Letters

I'm choosing to let everyone in on some letters that I have composed. They are more like notes really, but they are every bit as meaningful as a longer letter to me...and I assume to my audience.

So- without further ado - open letters:

Dear Left Foot -

What's the problem? I mean, I know we've had our ups and downs (literally), but the pain is getting ridiculous. What are you trying to tell me? Are you broken? Sprained? Do you just need attention? I know that I favor the right side, but that's most just a hand thing. I love both you feet equally...although if you don't start behaving, I'm probably going to end up loving the right foot more.

I just feel like I give and give and get nothing in return. I bought you special insoles. I keep you elevated and rested and I've been giving you Advil. When is it my turn to reap some rewards. And by rewards I mean, just stop hurting every time I take a step. Is that really too much to ask?

I'll cut you off. Just ask my nose. I would do it out of spite. Shape up left foot. Be more like your brother, right foot.

-Rose

Dear Hair,

Hi! Long time no see. We've been together for a long time now, through thick and thin (no, mostly just thin) and for the most part we've done well together. But I can't keep supporting your lifestyle choices. I know that you don't get along well with humidity, but I fail to see how that is my problem. Why is it that you can't just lay flat, smooth and shiny? Why, at the first hint of rain, must you rise up to become frizzy and unmanageable?

I feel that I am pretty nice to you. I'm not like other girls I see with the dyeing and the constant blow-drying and curling and product placement. No, I'm fairly low maintenance. I wash you, I condition, sometimes I rinse and repeat. Yet, you choose to disobey. It hurts me, hair, it hurts me. I don't really like to threaten, but I see a hot iron in your future. I'll twist you around until you don't know what hit you. I'll spray you so full of hairspray that you'll never come undone. Do you hear me hair? Start dealing with the humidity constructively or you are going to be in for a world of hurt.

-Rose

Dear 11:15 Plaen View Bus Driver,

While I applaud your liberal use of the horn in traffic and your constant impatience- two qualities I, myself, posses- I would like to offer some light criticism. While I believe that getting me from point A to point B in the shortest possible time is commendable, I feel that some of your tactics on the road might be seen as dangerous. The tailgating of the cars in front of us on that curvy road. The near misses that we have with pedestrians in the cross walk. The sudden, swift starts and stops that we make.

Additionally, I'm not sure why you refuse to stop at the bus stop that is on the street corner of the street I live on. You always stop a street before that at a place that does not have a bus stop sign or really any meaningful marker. I'm not really criticizing. If that's your bag, ok, cool. It's just somewhat weird. And I'm also not really sure what happened today when the guy pulled the bell for my stop and you stopped early and then he told you that he wanted to go to the corner, but then got out anyway and then you pulled away so fast that I wasn't able to get out, so that I was forced down into the seat, even though I was sitting at the front and trying to exit. I mean, it worked out well for me because that guy was at the bus stop on my corner, so you had to stop and I did get out, but I'm just wondering why we have to play these games?

And in case by some strange coincidence of the universe, you read random blogs...I'm the tall, leggy, blond girl that rides your bus.

-Concerned Passenger

Dear Stranger in a Red Truck,

Hello, sir. I just wanted to drop you a quick note to see if you had accomplished everything you needed to today with your, "hey baby" comment that you hurled at me out your window as you drove by. Was that everything you thought it would be? Did it go ok? I'm not sure what the purpose was, but I hope that by cat-calling to me out your window you were able to feel a sense of accomplishment and joy.

Bless you,

Girl walking in a Big Gray Sweatshirt and Ill-fitting Black Pants

Saturday is College Football Day...Apparently

Today I was going to go to the homecoming game, but I didn't want to walk the 1 mile there and 1 mile back (see how that works? it's physics or something). I didn't want to risk hurting my foot/ankle more. So I didn't go. But I hear it was a good time. Iowa lost though. I'd muster up some disappointment at this outcome, but I'm not really that emotionally invested.

In other sports news, the Cubs are the NL Central Division Champions. That's pretty sweet. Apparently I'm willing to emotionally invest in some sports. Who knew?

Right now I am waiting for Zach to start the movie and shut off the stupid college football that he is watching. I won the rock/paper/scissors contest (rock - for those of you wondering), so he has to get popcorn and iced tea and start the movie at 9 instead of 9:30 or 10:00 which was his previous estimate. I run a tight ship up in here at Casa de Halterman. Not really. I run a ship full of holes, rats and pirates, but again, I digress.

I was planning to write something coherent, some sort of essay. I really think that was my intention earlier, but sadly, I've forgotten what it was that I thought was so profound or possibly entertaining. I'll try to work on that for later.

I took a nap today and it just wiped me out. It was like an anti-nap or something. I woke up and now I'm all tired and groggy. Ah well. I also bought some new bras today. That's probably something that not everyone needs to know. But this is my blog and as I'm probably the only one who reads it with any regularity, I'll share what I want to. The woman in front of me in line was paying with a check. I was sort of unaware that people still used checks. I stopped to think about the purpose of a check. I mean, sure, you can use it to mail in with your monthly bills...although those are on-line now too. I don't know why you ever need to use a check when you are transacting in person. I'm not saying that everything has to be done with a debit card. Cash is cool too. But why, if you have the money in your checking account aren't you just paying with a debit card? Welcome to the 15th Annual Meeting of the Judgemental Whores Club. Sorry, mystery woman. If you want to pay by check, go for it. Who am I to judge?

I also read Dear Abby today. Reading that column unfailingly makes me shocked and awed. It's like that Van Buren woman is staging an offensive against me and it's totally working. I have to believe that these letters are fake. Are there really people out there with such lame problems who can't find a person in their lives to ask? I mean, really. I try not to read it, but sometimes after I finish the comics I still have a little leftover time and my eye wanders. Today there was a letter about a woman who is allergic to cold. She says that she can't eat, drink or breathe anything at a cold temperature for fear that she will die. I just right this minute (now, it was that minute) googled allergy to cold and according to the Mayo Clinic it's possible. Although they didn't mention death. Go ahead, google it yourself, you know you want to. Regardless of what the internet is telling me (All hail the Internet - Keeper of Knowledge) - I still find an allergy to cold hard to believe. Cold is not even a thing. It's a state. How can you be allergic to a state? Except for Florida. I can see being allergic to Florida. OOOOOOHHHHHH BURN!

Ok, I'm out. It's time for the movie and really the whole post was just a set-up for a single joke. Check and check. Good-night.

Dial F for Friday

It's almost the end of the month. That means it's really close to the end of me posting every day. I mean, maybe I still will...but likely not. Are you a tiny bit sadder now? Did some of the light just go out of your eyes? I know, I feel it too. Today I wanted to do something exciting and creative. But then I remembered that we're fresh out. So I decided upon a list of my favorite things. But not just any list. A 26 item list. Because the requirement is that each thing has to start with a letter of the alphabet. I also promise not to spend more than 10 minutes on this because I've got things to do (no, not really). So if you get bored easily. Thanks for stopping by and I'll try to be more entertaining tomorrow (don't count on it). If you are not the faint of heart - read on.

(begin time 3:50 PM)

Alphabet Favorites

Arizona (favorite state)
Birthday (favorite holiday)
Crime drama (favorite tv genre)
Disease (favorite thing to worry about)
Eggs (favorite breakfast food to keep me full)
F***(favorite expletive that makes you sound like a sailor)
Gonzo (favorite muppet)
Happy (favorite feeling, though perhaps not the most frequent)
IPod (favorite ruined item/gift idea)
Jerkwad (favorite insult that's not used enough)
Ken (favorite date for Barbie...I just have nothing on this one for some reason)
Land (favorite thing to stand on)
Me (favorite person to think of)
Narcissist (favorite personality type)
Ocean (favorite body of water)
Purses (favorite item to purchase and use once)
Quilts (favorite thing to think about making as my next craft project)
Rose (favorite person)
Silence (favorite sound next to my own voice)
Tea (Iced - notice the "d" at the end, it's not ice tea - favorite drink in the world)
Uvula (favorite clean word that sounds dirty)
Victory (favorite thing to lord over other people)
Wind (favorite weather condition to hate)
Xylophone (favorite word that starts with X)
Yo-yo (favorite toy that people (read: boys) can use to impress me)
Zach (favorite boyfriend ever)


(End time 4:01 PM)

I was so close to making it in 10 minutes. I didn't have a second hand, so maybe I really did make it. I'd like to think so.

And scene.

Thursday is the day after Wednesday

So in what seems to be a recurring theme here on My Blog is Better Than Your Blog - I have nothing interesting to say. But I still stand by the statement that my blog is better than your blog. Because the bar is really, really low.

I'll give you some random thoughts from the day. It's not exactly riveting, but it is fulfilling the quota and I'm all about just maintaining. No reason to try to excel just reach mediocrity.

Siggy (the iPod) is dead. R.I.P., Siggy, R.I.P. You will be missed. I think he's gone for good this time because well, just trust me, it doesn't bode well for him ever coming back. Oh well, you live, you love, your appliances die, your friends purchase you new appliances to replace the old...you learn to love again. It's the circle of life.

My foot still hurts. It hurts bad. I'm not going to the doctor though. Because as much as everyone thinks I'm a hypochondriac, I'm not. A hypochondriac likes to visit the doctor and "confirm" illness. I hate the doctor and I hate actually knowing if something is wrong with me. I prefer instead to make up wild fantasies in my head and see how they pan out. That's just the way I roll.

The Cubs lost again today. To the Marlins. The Marlins. I'm not going to act like I'm the biggest baseball fan ever, but I love the Cubs and I can't understand how they could lose 3 games to the Marlins...when the Marlins suck ass. And you know what People of Florida? You don't deserve a baseball team because your stadium wasn't even half full. People fill up Wrigley even when the Cubs are in last place. Shame, Floridans, shame. Seriously. Not just for the baseball either. Oooohh, ZING! The blog is politically relevant now. Well, it's politically relevant about 7 years in the past, but it's a start.

I'm watching Reaper right now. I didn't catch the start, but it seems a decent. Directed by Kevin Smith. Who also has a blog. And it's being turned into a book. A real book I guess, people approached him to publish it. Wow...looking back over the punctuation in this paragraph so far is sorta painful. Oh well, I'm pushing through. Anyway, I read a little bit of the blog and no offense, but the parts I read weren't that interesting. He did mention a kid though, so that probably counts for something. I just find it sort of hard to believe that his blog deserves a book. Although if for some reason Kevin Smith you've googled yourself, Kevin Smith and you are reading this Kevin Smith. I thought Mallrats was awesome. Except for Claire Forlani. She didn't seem like she could act her way out of a paper bag...although I've never understood why anyone would need to act themselves out of a paper bag. But I digress. Kevin Smith, your blog is alright, but I think we can all agree, mine's better.

And that's the Rose Show everybody! Goodnight!

Today Was A Good Day*

Today (or tonight rather) I bring you some updates and a story.

So my foot still hurts. It might hurt less than yesterday, but it's hard to tell. I'm too precious to suffer so I don't do it well.

Today I gave a presentation in front of a large group of people. It was only 5 minutes. People told me I did well. I don't know. I'm uber critical of myself, so I'm not a fair judge. I do know that I was talking really, really fast. Partway through I thought, "Man, I am talking way too fast." But by then I had momentum and I just had to plow through. But at least it's done now.

Jesse also mentioned that there is a "service" that will turn your blog into a book. I make you this promise people, if I get the iPod Nano (or similarly awesome gift) for my birthday, the party favors are going to be books. Books of this blog. That's right, that offer just happened. I know, I know, some of you are wetting yourselves now. And those of you who know me are just so excited about the possibility. I know, I know.

I'm currently not dead from eating any broken glass. I'm not sure when the danger will be passed though because I don't know how long it takes glass in your system to kill you. I'm not a doctor. I just play one in my mind.

And now, the story. Zach works at a property management company and he gets to field calls from the tenants. Sometimes they yell at him. Sometimes they ask him annoying questions. And sometimes they just hand him comic gold:

A girl calls up and says, "Um...I have a problem."
"Ok, what can I help you with?"
"I think my oven is broken."
"Uh-huh and what's wrong with it?"
"Well, I turn it on and then it turns itself off and then I have to turn it on higher and then it turns itself off again and then finally I keep turning it up until I can't turn it up any higher and it still shuts itself off."

Do you see where this story is going? Because it's awesome. And if you don't see where this is going then, that's just sad for you. Sad for you and the privileged princess that can't use her oven.

So at this point, Zach has to put her on hold so that he can laugh at her because he can't contain himself any longer.

Zach, "Ok, so um...here's what I think is happening. I think your stove still works. What happens is that the stove is preheating. So it's not actually turning off."
"Huh...um...ok, see I don't cook a lot."

Newsflash, really? Really, you don't cook a lot? I never would have guessed. No, I'm being sarcastic. I would totally have guessed.

"Why don't you try turning it on and putting something in there to cook and if I doesn't cook then you can call us back and I'll send someone out."
"Ok"

He reports that after a little bit, she seemed to feel a little abashed. I think it's awesome that this girl is able to be in an apartment by herself (or with some unlucky roommate) and she doesn't know how an oven works. What kind of special life did she lead that she's never used an oven? Zach said, "What kind of mean nanny, doesn't teach a kid how to work a stove?" It's a good point. We laughed for a long time yesterday when he told me. It's just incredible that she didn't feel that the oven was really, really hot. You'd think by trial-and-error she would have figured out that it was working. I mean, a trained monkey can make a frozen pizza - no offense intended to the trained monkeys reading this blog. I imagine her in the apartment, frozen food in hand, just sitting there hungry and trying to figure out what to do. And finally concluding that maybe it's a KFC kind of night.

Ok, that's it for now. I'm tired and I need to go to sleep.

Good-night.

*I do love me some Ice Cube.