Arguments Against Solar Power

Matt thinks my habit of comparing gas prices is bizarre. I document it here to see
1. who else does it? It can't be uncommon. It's so interesting.
2. whether anyone keeps track of their findings.
When I lived in St. Joe (sigh!), I'd watch the daily pricing battle of two neighborhood gas stations. I'd pass them on the way to class in the morning and returning home after noon I'd notice that the numbers had been traded (for bigger or smaller--I couldn't predict! It was exciting!!).
I was thisclose to starting a log. Seriously. I only got far enough to mentally document and recite later. Gas prices spell c-o-n-v-e-r-s-a-t-i-o-n. It gave my roommates more to mock. At least then they didn't notice my Easy Mac dishes piling up.

Math Teachers = Socially Awkward + Tactless

"What are you guys making today? I'm hungry."
"I don't teach Foods. I teach Child Psych."
"Oh. Well, why would you need children's psychology? What is there to understand? They say, 'I want that' and then cry if they don't get it."
"Well. I guess we spend too much time trying to figure them out. We should cook more."

Cord Structure

Dad: "Look at this cable. This is beautiful cable."
Mom: "I would leave you for cable like that."
Dad: "You are a human butt...Man, I hate hooking up VCRs. They are a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass. No two VCRs were created equal. In and out...dammit."
(minutes later)
Dad: "That's the...out. In."
(even later)
Dad: "All right. Which one is in and which one is out?! Dammit!"

Sociable Drinker

Bar musicians have amazing patience for unruly patrons, especially the lonely drunks. Last night down at Harvey's there was one such offender whose elated strains resounded on every song he (thought he) knew.
"This is a song I wrote called 'Loafers, No Socks'. It's a summer---"
"'Loafers, No Socks'?"
"Yep. That's what I call it."
"That's a good tune."
The man giggled and swirled his drink. Eventually Matt and Richards began pandering to the enthusiastic drunkard with some John Denver, James Taylor, and Neil Young. Wastey stumbled to the microphone:
"I've been to Hollywood, I've been to...I can't do it."
They started again, coaching him through it and he slurred,
"Let's try this."
After the fourth restart, the manager approached Drunky.
"Hang on a second! Nobody's leaving. There's twelve of us. Are you leaving?"
[Indistinct manager whispers]
"I've got to come over here."

Another One Bites The Cheap Girl In The Ass

It was a special occasion, so I bought a beautiful silk top because it was on sale and because I cannot resist deep olive green on sale. Unfortunately, I found the prettylittlecamisole in a pile of To Be Washed. The pile grows exponentially. It's hard to keep track. It could have been there for weeks, suffering.
I assumed that the Dry Clean Only tag was more of a garment care suggestion than a rule. I see that my reasoning is faulty. I don't know why I think my washing tactics will alter the outcome: Well, I use detergent and put it on a delicate cycle with cold water. Sure, I have jeans in there, but denim and silk go together like wampbabaloopmahbawopbangboom.
Except that they don't.
Like most of my Dry Clean Only items, it emerged from the washing machine a tortured version of its former self. Imagine a tissue from last winter, crumpled in your pocket. And then imagine that you threw the 2-ply to the ground and stomped on it. Wrinkled. Bruised. Lifeless.

Bambi's Mom Or, Read No Further If You Like Animals

I have to admit that I've never been hunting. I have no interest in shooting animals. Unless they're clay pigeons (rimshot).
Yesterday we were driving down 494 when Carly squealed. Out the passenger window was a truck full of tents and equipment. And strung to the back, flapping in the wind was A DEAD BUCK.
Deer? Buck? It had antlers.* It was dead.
Aside from obvious sanitary concerns, there was the discomfort of seeing it, watching its bound body flail. Is there really no law against toting home your kill in front of God and everyone?

*Best Monica Quote Of All Time: Antlers, antennae. What am I, a scientist?

Better Than Flowers in a Hospital Room

I don't usually talk about the serious shit. Sometimes I mock it. Sometimes Anonymous (not Matt Anonymous, but another Anonymous) thinks I avoid my feelings.
But it turns out that Anne's dad is sick. Like really sick. Acute Myeloid Leukemia sick.
And so today (and yesterday, as I was absent a post and, Maggie, I am sorry for letting you go a day without an update) I'm asking you, People of the Internet, to send up your prayers, your thoughts, your well-wishing, for Mr. Dad (that's what I call him. Anne just calls him Dad).

She Didn't Put It On The Fridge

Engaged..In A Kiss!
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

"I want to show you one of the pictures I took at the shoot."
"Did you do that on purpose?"
"Yes, Mom."
"So why are they behind bars?"
"Because I thought it was cool, Mom."
"Is this because you think marriage is like jail?"
"No, Mom."
"Oh. Hm. And they liked it?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Hmmm."

Easy Like A Chocolate Morning

Hey 9:50 AM, Are you too early for chocolate?
Nope. I'm just the right time. Especially if you can find a piece of Halloween-sized, peanutty chocolate.
You wouldn't even believe it if I told you: an OhHenry! just appeared as soon as you suggested it. I guess I should...
Yes. Yes, you should.

Seriously? Really?

Every once in a while I run into someone as stubborn as me*. JoAnna is a piece of work. And by 'piece of work' I mean "I hope I never see her again for as long as I live because her myopic, prejudicial, money-grubbing made me ill."
Here are some more conversational snippets from this weekend:

"I shouldn't have to help people. I'm helping myself. I've got enough to do."
"So we don't have any responsibility to other people; to provide for others who are less fortunate?"
"I'm not paying for some homeless women and children. I give a week at my house in Florida which is a $10,000 value for the cancer research fundraiser every year."
----------
"But I got screwed because of the lesbian judges."
"What does that mean?"
"What?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Lesbian judges hate women to get things without earning them."
(Blink, blink, mouth gaping)
----------
"Oh, hey. Could you put your bag on the other couch? It's just that those are $9000 couches."
"Mhmm."
----------
"Oh, is that a reflector?"
"Yeah."
"Those are great. I have one of those... Actually, I have two."
----------
"Oprah spent $50000 on flowers for her 50th birthday party. Now that is excessive."
"Some people would argue that a $9000 couch is excessive."
"I didn't pay $9000 for that couch. It's worth $9000."
"Mhmm."

*Myself? I? Dammit, I don't even know what's right!