so on thursday of last week, my closet broke. yep. i heard a crash and ran into my room to find this:
everything fell. there were bent metal braces and screws ripped out of the wall. i just closed the door. later, i did take the time to transport my closet to my kitchen. i’m now waiting on the apartment maintenance guy to pay me a visit. my new closet:
i was talking to some friends recently about how good flintstones vitamins taste. i mean, they’re good! when i was a little kid, my parents found me hiding under my desk one time eating as many as i could. …and i had some recently – and it was no childhood fantasy! they actually taste good!
what a mystery this is though – because as adults we all unfortunately find out that nothing in this world that is good for you taste good. its all gross. fact of life: healthy food tastes bad. EXCEPT for flintstones vitamins! how did they do that? i think instead of asking how, we should be asking what. what can we do with these amazing vitamins?
i think we could change the way that healthy food is perceived. what if we simply crunched up flintstones vitamins and made spices out of them? just imagine green beans: with a hint of strawberry flavoring. they would be amazing – and the greatest thing is that you’re only adding more nutrients! you could flavor anything, even ice cream could now in a sense be called ‘healthy’. we could separate them into individual flavors, but also create an ‘allspice’ that was just an entire bottle of flintstones crushed up. i think this would take the culinary world by storm. healthy food would be tasty! we would name the spice after the character we crushed up. there would be ‘essence of dino’ and a ‘dash of bam-bam’. think of the fun that Emeril Lagasse would have would that: “and BAM we just add a little BAMBAM! BAM!”
i was sitting in linear algebra this morning, with all my energies concentrated on not falling asleep, when the unthinkable happened. my class doesn’t get out until 9:15, but my professor got confused and started letting us out at 8:50. he started handing back our tests 20 minutes early! and to make things better, he felt guilty because, as he thought, we were going to be late to our next class…so he gave us two bonus points on our test! it was like someone had handed me a shopping spree to that cookie kiosk in the mall. a bright light can shining out of the boredom darkness…i was getting out of clas 20 minutes early! but no. everything took an extreme downturn as that guy on the front row, the one in the green jacket, slowly raised his hand. cleared his voice. and into the sweet silence stated, ‘we still have twenty minutes left in class.’ everyone in the room slumped into their desk as our riveting professor picked back up his piece of chalk and drew more numbers on the board…why? who wants to be that kid? ugh.
for those of you who know me, you know that i have horrible luck when it comes to have any sort of normal experience once i set foot inside of a mexican restaurant. i think this happens because i always get nervous because i don’t know what to order. if there was just a menu item that read, ‘chicken swimming in cheese sauce’ i’d be fine. seriously people. but i had mexican food last weekend. and this time was no exception.
we walked into the restaurant that had an interesting ambiance because of the christmas wreath that still hung over the door. you have to appreciate the way that these places are decorated. but things are going fine as our waiter with blond tips in his hair takes our order and listens to me struggle to order one of those lunch combinations that sounds the most like what you can get at taco bell. everything is going according to plan as i explain to him that i want cheese sauce poured all over the top of whatever it was that i just ordered. as we’re eating our food and enjoying the environment of our mexican christmas eatery, a little girl leans out of the booth in front of ours. i watch as she extends her arm and begins to shake her glass at the whole restaurant. i’m pretty sure that if you’re rich, this is an acceptable way to ask for a refill. i can’t help it. confessedly, i stared. and i watched for at least 2 minutes as waiters and waitresses walked right past her as she shook her empty glass at each one of them. it was mesmerizing. no one ever responded to her, and she just kept on shaking it back and forth. as soon as someone at my table asked me what i was staring at, instead of telling them, i just picked up my empty glass and began to to shake it at the restaurant. almost immediately, blondie waiter stops and asks me… ‘refill?’ i glanced at the little girl. she was glaring at me.
i would like to take a moment to thank the gods of irony and fate for my life. i appreciate it.
i think i figured out what’s wrong with our economy:
yes, it’s upside down.
genius.
so i went to a wedding on saturday and i noticed something interesting at the reception. i was among the first few people to get there and as more and more people got there, the more awkward it got. everyone was just standing around looking at piles of fried seafood and staring at mounds of fruit. the potato bar lady was poised and ready…waiting for the first person to take the potential social plunge and grab that first ceramic plate off the stack. eventually, though i don’t quite know how, the reception started. i just looked up and there was a line. this was a horrible experience for me. so here’s what i propose:
i am available for hire. i will, for a small fee, come to your wedding and break the ice. no one will know who i am, so therefore i can safely and faithfully take the first plate of food that rich people call hors d’oeuvres. no one gets embarrassed, no one gets hurt. i will keep the importance of this duty close to my heart and mind. i’ll get the job done. oh, i’ll be the first to dance too – but that of course will cost extra
so the holidays are over. i went shopping several times with my mom over christmas – and came back with a lot of questions. and one big one: eggs. we were in the grocery store and my mom was checking things off the list and stuff and she looked at me and said, ‘go get a dozen large eggs.’ I thought why ‘large?’ so i head over, past the milk, past the cream cheese, and land at the eggs.
i look down to see five different types of eggs! there’s medium, large, x-large, jumbo, and…….brown. it was awesome. who knew there were this many types of eggs? then i started thinking, ‘who is the person who sits around and seperates all these eggs?’ that job would be a blast. then my little industrial brain sluffs it off with the fact that i’m sure there’s some machine that does it. oh wait. these are eggs. they’re like, really breakable. okay, so maybe there’s like different kinds of chickens. like a medium chicken would make medium eggs. and extra large eggs would come from ‘extra large’ chickens. so…brown eggs come from…
maybe there really is just some poor soul who sits around all day deciding what size eggs are. i would want the color job though – that would be easier.
fall out of line 