this has to make me like a black belt in bad ass or something.

What makes a good day go bad fast? When you set your washing machine to do a quick load, run an errand and come back to find that the water is still sitting in the tub.

Seethe.

Weep.

Then get pissed. I pulled out the tools, ripped the back of the machine off, read the technical papers, googled the shit out of the problem, cuss, sweat, cuss some more, finally think that maybe it's something simple and not a grand technical issue that's going to require you to hand bail out the water in the tub and wring out the clothes before throwing in the still functioning dryer, and take a screw driver and JAM it in the spot where the lid switch is....

and the machine springs to life and spins.

Really?

REALLY?!

So what does one do to avoid having someone come in and dismantle the beast to replace a freaking plastic thing that's no longer poking down far enough?

Well this chick learned from MacGyver, took a waxing stick (think popsicle stick), snapped it off and tapped it to the plastic thing that's supposed to activate the switch.

And guess what?

It bloody works.

Can I get my belt now? I really need to go serve up some ninja justice.

oh hump day, you never cease to surprise me.

Yet again.....I was that guy today.

The guy that you invite to a party and they lite their hair on fire.

No really, I lit my hair on fire. Note to self: never put a candle close to your ear to hear the fancy wood wick crackle sounds, especially if you have curly, poofy hair.

Never fear, I still have plenty of hair left.

(p.s. yes, I totally stole this graphic from the internet, but whatevs, it works)

yesterday, i was that kid.

Seven years. That's how long I've worked in this bloody office. Seven years, 5 days a week, 260 work days a year, that's about 1820 days of sitting my cushy ass in a rolly chair multiple times a day.

Successfully.

And then, when I have a mere 9 days left on my time card here, THAT is when I miss the fucking rolling chair and fall flat on my ass knocking a pile of nice, neat, alphabitized and collated papers right on top of my retarded noggin and whacking the back of my head on said runaway rolly chair.  Fuck you chair. That was just mean. I know I crush you daily with my body, but what about all those times we've spun in lazy circles together while I think until I feel like I'm going to puke? Or the moments when we're on the phone and a rock/bounce you? Now, after a almost 2000 days together you do me dirty? Bastard.

To answer your question, yes I'm fine. Oh wait, that wasn't your question was it? That was just the sound of your gasping for breath while you laugh at my desmise. It's cool. You'll get yours.

I was also that kid who you saw slamming on their breaks, veering to the side of the road and jumping out of her car with the mildly screaming heebie jeebies yesterday because a big ol' creepy clear/white spider went scampering across my windshield ON THE INSIDE. *gag* Not cool car. We're supposed to keep the buggers out side or smashed on the grill.

Needless to say, yesterday was more than eventful. And a strange follow up to my super dee duper awesome birthday on Tuesday. It was grand. So grand I didn't go to bed until after midnight and had to be at work at 6:30. Roooooouuugh morning to say the least. And then I get attacked my office furniture AND arachnids?

Thank god there is wine in my fridge.

please stop questioning my gender because it might rub off.

As if getting a plane ticket that had me listed as a Mr. B, 2 years ago wasn't bad enough, I have to put up with constant scammer emails from a one Margot Taylor trying to get me to inhance my male performance. Really? Just no.

*ahem*

Dear Margot Taylor,

Stop sending me Viagra emails. No, I do not need to increase my penial stamina nor do I care if I can buy in BULK! Cheap! From you. I am the proud owner of a vagina. Please hock your little blue pill somewhere else.

Regards,
me.

I'm adding Ms. Taylor to the list of people that deserve a punch to the twat.

it's like giving a kid a popsicle and then telling them to stand in the sun for 10 minutes before eating it.

I finally did it.

I finally upgraded my phone. Yes, I have been rocking my first generation 2G iphone since they were first put on the market. No, I could not recieve picture messages. Or record videos. Or face time chat. Or play Words With Friends. Yes, sometimes the phone moved at a snail's pace. But, it was my buddy for many long years and I almost felt guilty about trading it in for a newer model, like I was cheating on it or putting it down like an old dog.

Well, I felt like that for a few minutes until the cold metal of that new phone touched my palm and I realized I could do all these things and MORE! Like instant watch my netflix on my phone. Best. Thing. Ever. Almost as amazing (because I'm not sure anything will top the instant watch thing), is that I can actually hear my phone now. The sound is mind blowing.

Not so amazing?

Getting home from the store and plugging my phone into my computer to upload my ringtones only to find out that I need the new version of itunes. And then when trying to download the new version of itunes finding out I can't. Because now my computer software is too old.

sonofabitch.

just like dr. phil except with more hair and bigger boobs.

One extremely vital part of life is being a good listener I think. I try and be open and willing to listen to people who seek out my ear drums to discuss their problems or what have you, which in my opinion, I think I'm pretty successful.  Whether your issues are with your job, your spouse, your friend, your mom, your pet, that asshole who blocks your driveway with his garbage can or with that co-worker that you want to stab, I'm completely willing to listen, nod sympathetically and try to help you come to a solution for the situation, even if that solution is just to sit down with a bottle of rum and bad mouth the mother fucker until dawn.

However, there are lines people. LINES. Boundaries one might say. Whereas I might call up my best gal pal to discuss the in's and out's of bodily functions or weird medical issues, I would NOT delve into these topics with perfect strangers.

Perfect example. You walk into an office and the young(ish) receptionist proclaims that your twin toddler girls are extremely adorable and my, what a handful that must be! It is ok for you to say thank you and perhaps mention that they're nothing compared to their four older brothers. It is not ok that upon reply from the young(ish) receptionist, for you to then dive into how you and your husband had only wanted one more child, but had twins, so that when you had to go in for a minor procedures they tied your tubes but even THAT didn't work because you were then plagued with a tubular pregnancy at which point you had to have your ovary and such removed.
.
.
.
Do you hear that? THAT is the sound of an over share. Over. Share. This is information, that while I feel for you because that must have be mildly unpleasant, I do not ever need to know. I will never see you again (hopefully). You have also just greatly reduced my already slim desire to have children, logarithmically. So while my face might appear sincere and understanding, inside I'm screaming at you to shut your damn pie hole because I don't give a damn, just fill out your paper and sit down.

I'm not sure what it is about me that encourages people to share these things with me, but if you aren't willing to discuss the results of your morning bathroom visit with me, by all means prevent my inevitable psychotic breakdown by limiting the over shares.

in this case i'm really happy i'm just an idiot and not a dude

Here's the thing, I? am completely retarded.  No really, I am. People must think I'm either drunk or just off my meds the majority of the time. I have this innate ability to take a random situation and turn it into the most awkward encounter possible.So when I dial a number and punch in the extension that I just KNOW belongs to my dear friend and then when she answers and I begin the interaction as I normally would, like a complete jackass, and then quickly realize something is wrong and immediately the jack-ass dial turns to 'blubbering-confused-awkward-kid', I am again reminded of why I shouldn't be allowed to ever leave the house or interact with other homo sapiens.

Actual conversation between myself and the gal who is not my friend but was nice so maybe I should try calling her again to see if she wants to be friends.

Megan: Hello?

Me: That's not how you normally answer the phone.

Megan: Excuse me?

Me: Is this Megan?

Megan: Yes it is!

Me: Oh, ok. I was confused because you answered the phone strange. And... you sound weird.

Megan: I do?

Me: Yeah... um, (now fully realizing something is very wrong and starting to stammer and sweat like a baffoon) .... I think I have the wrong extension. I'm looking for Megan (insert last name here)

Not-My-Megan: Oh *laughs*, yup, you've got the wrong number. I was wondering why I didn't recognize your voice.

Me (now completely mortified): .....*crickets*... yeah, can you transfer me to her?

Not-My-Megan: I'll try, sorry if I hang up on you!

Me: *garbled words because things have gotten way awkward*

Almost as award as this picture.

Almost.

An interruption to our regularly scheduled broadcast

Which basically means I'm taking a break from FINALLY working on/writing my senior research paper. You know, being that I've got less than 3 weeks until I graduate, it's probably a good idea to get this bitch under control. Have no fear, progress is being made. I actually have a solid 3 pages of writing and some figures in, which is a huge improvement from my zero pages about 2 hours ago.

I don't know about y'all, but I had a pretty dang good Thanksgiving. In fact, I had two of them, one of which include mounds of my mother's yummy cooking which she does FAR too infrequently for my liking because no matter how much you try to replicate your mother's recipe, something is always missing. So, needless to say, I gained about five pounds Friday alone. Oh well!

But what does this all mean? It means that my FAVORITE FUCKING HOLIDAY is upon us! Christmas is almost here! I love this dang season and I'm doing everything I can to shake off this crazy, stressful, depressing funk that's been clinging to me and embracing my favorite time of year. I decorated my place and now every time I walk in my front door it makes me smile. I'm getting my tree this coming week and will squeal with delight once it's in it's proper place, lights all aglow. I've enjoyed my peppermint mochas and spiced apple ciders in the red cup from starbucks and I've begun my all time favorite activity: christmas shopping for all! I love giving people gifts and watching their faces light up as they open them. Whether it's a big or small gift, the joy of giving something to someone warms my soul (assuming I still have one of course).

Anyways, I digress. This post was supposed to be about the fact that the only place I can ever get any work done is Starbucks. So, as I'm sitting here I nearly laughed out loud remembering a story I forgot to post here about the last time I was camped out at a starbucks in F-town. There I was, frantically banging away at my keyboard, emailing professors at universities left and right to try and find some damn sponsorship for my future when, EEK, the urge to void all the caffeine I just consumed hit me. I made sure my belongings were secure and scurried off to the loo, locking the door behind me. As I was washing my hand I was incredibly glad I had just emptied my bladder because someone slammed their body against the door while rattling the handle to open it. Finding their path blocked after ramming the door like a left tackle, they proceeded to knock incessantly on the door. Annoyed, I opened the door with wet hands still clutching a paper towel to come face to face with a large, strange woman, dressed from head to toe in some fashion of clothes/pajamas in many shades of pink, who seemed startled to find another human on the other side of the door. She looked at me and said "I didn't know anyone was in there."

No apology.
No "excuse me".
Just pure stupidity.

I finished drying my hands, tossed the paper towel in the trash and squeezed past her and explained to her in as few words as possible that that's what the locked door was all about.

Surprisingly, after that incident, pimping myself out to all of mankind felt somewhat more satisfying because hell, even if I didn't get a sponsor, at least I knew the functions of a locked door.

Today's color is: Red.

Red.

It's the color of the numbers flashing on the clock telling me I'm already 15 mintues late leaving the house in the morning.

It's the color of the fucking stoplight that made me sit for over 5 minutes because it refused to let my side turn green but taunted me by turning the other 3 sides of the intersection green. Three times. Count them. 1. 2. 3.

It's the color of my vision as I was stuck in the worst traffic ever trying to get to fresno on time.

It's the color of the mark that was on my face from nearly falling asleep in class because I didn't have time to get coffee this morning.

It's the color of my skin as I baked in my car for almost an hour waiting for my prof to show up to the second half of our lab today.

It's the color of my impatience as I waited 10 minutes to get $20 out of the ATM because of the two turtles in front of me taking their sweet ass time.

Red. I used to like you, but now I fear you're just another tool the universe is using to put my brain in a vice grip and squeeeeeeeze. Forever more you will be equated with blood and pain.

Needless to say, it's been a shittacular day. Add that in with my excursions on Sunday and my discovery yesterday, and we're chalking it up to a bad week here folks. I know, a month of no posting and you get this? Well tune in later and I'll tell you all about how I think I'm becoming a giant magnet that kills all things remotely electronic within a mile radius of me.

But, you'll all be happy to know, that the mysterious horn honking is back. In the past couple of weeks I've managed to scare the shit out of myself by honking my own horn more than a half dozen times. The culprit? Usually my backpack. But one unlucky time, it was my forehead as I reached back down into my car for something. Yes, yes I AM that dumb. Feel free to laugh.

Balltastic.

So what do you do when you have a kind of cruddy Monday at work because well, it's Monday, you're tired and you've got a ton of stuff to do and your feeling a wee bit stressed?

Well I don't know about you but I took it out on my backyard. I pulled a few weeds, I raked a bunch of leaves (yes leaves, yes it's summer not fall, I don't understand it either you'd have to ask that fecking tree in my backyard that drops leaves ALL YEAR LONG) and, I tackled trimming back two small trees back there that were kind of taking over. I couldn't walk past them to the rest of the patio without ducking. Here is where I had a tiny problem though. Even though I wanted to take out my aggression on said trees, I don't per say own proper tree trimming equipment. The big squeezy trimmer thing, would have been helpful, a chain saw would have been most excellent (though let's face it, no one is letting me wield a chain saw on my own considering I can't even close my car door without maiming myself). But alas, I had none of these. So what do you do when you have two trees getting smart with themselves and taking over your backyard but nothing to trim them with? You grab a heavy duty pair of old scissors and show those bitches who is boss, THAT'S what. I know, scissors right? Geez Anna, way to be ghetto. But these aren't giant trees and scissors cut through most branches. Let me tell you, they are 100% better than before. Now someone who possess the right equipment (including a ladder) please come to my house and finish the job because they're still out of control way up high. :)

After attacking my backyard with a vengeance, I went to a softball game. And then watched a movie. And of course, me being me, towards the end of said movie I managed to knock over an entire glass of water....that was full...and it was a 32 oz. glass. Awesome. I really don't understand why my brain and my limbs cannot communicate with one another. Seriously body? The deuce.

What does any of this have to do with balls? Absolutely nothing. But it is fun to say.

The universe has spoken

And unless they invent a full body bubble suit, I will not be learning to ride a bike soon.

Yesterday I ran into my car door with my knee, and the pain was instant. Now? There is about a golf ball sized purple bruised slight goose egg looking monstrosity on my knee. Awesome.

Way to be subtle universe.

It's kind of early, I'm pretty hungry and not sure what's going on with this stupid software

This was intended to be a long post chalk full of pictures and such.

But then my computer and blogger started being an asshole, so we'll see how far I get.

I've been out of NY for almost a week now and while I had a rough start, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself now and back to the swing of things in London. Getting here was a doozy though. After much wasted time standing in lines at JFK, I finally boarded my plane and we pushed off and headed down the tarmac....only to stop and be told they were shutting the engines off and we weren't leaving for at least 2 hours. What has been left out of this story is that I was sitting next to quite possibly the craziest bitch on the planet, who had to be hopped up on meth or crack or something, so those extra few hours were not pleasant. We finally get airborne and they serve us the fabulous airline cuisine for dinner but by the time they reach me...no more vegetarian meals left, no biggie, ate the salad and roll, good to go. Arrive in London finally, get away from miss crazy, get grilled for 5 minutes by passport control and finally grab my luggage and head for the tube at the airport, which is forever and a day away. Get on the train, done. Get to where I need to change tube lines, good to go. Get to Victoria station to catch the overground train to Melissa's and of course there are no elevators here. Cut to me going slowly up the stairs, banging my suitcase and an old man wanting to be helpful and me reassuring him I am fine fine fine but he'll have none of it so he grabs my suitcase....and breaks the handle. Then runs away saying sorry. Now I'm stuck with a broke ass suitcase and have to manage the rest of the journey. By the time I finally reached the flat I was dehydrated, starving and exhausted. I thought "some food, some water, maybe a nap, you'll be good to go."

I was wrong.

So very wrong.

The food I ate, came right back up....twice. Along with the water I drank. My nap turned into having to sleep my entire first day here because every time I went vertical, my stomach clenched and threatened to send me heaving again. The girls here were great and took fantastic care of me, but worry struck because we were leaving for Dublin the next day! Thank the heavens when I woke up all was well, though my stomach was still a little iffy, and Mel and I made our way to Dublin just fine.

Dublin was great, except for all the Americans there. Don't get me wrong I've got lots of pride and love my country, but dammit I didn't go to Dublin to look at and listen to my countrymen. But, even with that, we had a great time there and made it safely back to London. Where the next day I met up with Mo Coppoletta at The Family Business Tattoo shop and got some new ink done, which is gorgeous and I love it. He has a book coming out, which is kind of exciting, and honestly he's one of the most fun tattoo artists I've ever had work done by. An incredibly enjoyable experience both times I've gone to him.

Now my time of leisure truly begins. I have no plans to speak of, which is awesome. Mel and I tried to go to our favorite Friday night hotspot in Angel, for I Love the 90's, only to be horrified to find that it has been replaced with some indie music night and the skankalicious girls were stankin' the area up so we just had dinner and came back to the flat to chill for a bit. A sad let down but I guess all good things can't last. What's up for today? Who knows, the zoo maybe? Reading in the park? Walking the city?

Until next time....

The Phantom of the Drawer

No, I do not have a case of invisible underwear, that would be weird....yet kind of awesome. Imagine how much LESS laundry you'd have! Or maybe incredibly gross, since you wouldn't be able to see it to clean it, and that could produce potential health and smell issues. But I digress..... I have this set of drawers that likes to open on their own in my desk. It's kind of, well, creepy. I'll be piddling along, doing my work and turn to grab something or get up and there one of them is, wide open and gaping at me like some sort of great abyss, demanding I either A. trip over it, B. Get something out of it or C. attempt to close it and be mocked as it opens of its own accord again. Don't believe me, well I took a picture, but then I realized that it's just a picture with a drawer on it that's open, I mean, anyone could have opened it. But I swear on all that is crazy, this baby opened by itself. The picture even says it, see, in the pink. It's like, science, because it's photo documented.

There's a new parking lot near where I work and said parking lot has lots of planters in it with cement curbs, idly waiting for trees to be planted in them (I assume) and today, some lady managed to get her car tire stuck in one. Yes, you read that right, stuck. in. a. planter. How you may ask? I have no fucking idea. She was in a smaller car, low to the ground, so it's not as if the tire would have easily hopped into the waiting dirt. The only thing I can guess is that she was hauling ass and BAM, popped her tire up on in that bitch. Crazy sauce.

And update on the hip: it still hurts like a bitch. Every time I stand or walk and sometimes even when I think about standing or walking. Houston, I fear we may have a problem here. Dag.

I need to find me some pain killers and booze.

Live and learn - and then carry about 10 spare tires in the trunk.

The sweetest thing ever has to be googling your first name and finding out there is a town named after you! (Yes, after me, shhh.....ok maybe not but it's still kind of awesome!) Texas, you officially RULE.

I've been back for a little over a week from my adventure into the PNW and life has settled into a pace of work, go to the gym, work, should go to the gym but don't, work, really should go to the gym buuuutt.... work, gym, sleep. :) The PNW was a blast. I got to go to Spokane for well, less than 24 hours, but it was pretty awesome to catch up with the lovely Addie and Lori. And to road trip with Nicole. However, it has been determined that I? am tire kryptonite for my friends. Do you remember last time I was in the PNW and Katie's poor car fell victim to my hidden powers (skip past all the gratuitous photos to the meat of the story)? On our way back from Spokane on the day of the wedding we *dun dun DUNNNNN* got a nail in one of the tires. So, her mom was gracious enough to drive her spare set to us, but unfortunately, despite our best efforts and leaving 7 hours before the wedding started, we missed the ceremony. We were able to make it for the reception at least, and I got to see little Bwenticus all married off, which was kind of crazy.

While at the fabulous Katie's, I got this random text message at 1:40 in the morning. Luckily, I was awake, otherwise I probably would have lost my shit with crankiness. Well, somehow I managed to get myself a text message stalker. The kid has been texting me non-stop since I've been back with very little encouragement from me. However, he crossed the line of desperation and neediness when he kept pestering me to text him back, and why hadn't I texted him back and blah blah BLAH! Sooo, I might have told him that I was busy, I didn't know him or owe him anything and he needed to chill. Annnd then he texted me AGAIN that night to see if I was busy...and I ignored it per usual. And I haven't heard from him since. Ahhh, blissful silence. :) I know that may have been a little harsh but seriously? We were way past the city limits sign to creeperville so I feel it was justified.

Now we're just a mere 3ish weeks away from my departure to my big summer adventure and I am getting so EXCITED. Prepare yourself for even more gratuitous photos of myself, Caitlin, Melissa, Emily, and all the other fabulous people I shall meet along the way. (Dear photo gods, please send me a hot irishman in Dublin, thanks, love me.)

In other news, I've got a minor bone to pick with IKEA. Thanks to the help of Megan, I think I've found the perfect sofa table for my place and it's a reasonable price at $149, which is pretty good compared to others I've seen. But of course it's not available in any of the California stores so I say "Let's order this bitch online!". Add it to the cart. Plug in my address. Get to the page for credit info and order reviewing and WOAHOHHOLYSHITTHATCANNOTBETHESHIPPINGCHARGE! Those bastards wanted to charge $299.00 for shipping!?!? That's twice the cost of the table?! What the deuce IKEA, what. the. deuce. Epic fail. So the search continues.

It's true, you can have it all. No wait, they lied.

Oh life, how funny you can be. One weekend I'll have nothing to do but enjoy being lazy around the house, catching up on my DVR and Netflix. And the next..... everyone and their mother will want to make plans for those exact days.

I always want to do it ALL! I want to play and hang out and do everything that people invite me to do, but this weekend, that was just not going to happen. I thoroughly enjoyed the things I did, I merely wish instead of getting 3 invites for Saturday night and 2 for Sunday, that I could have spread them across 3 weekends. My weekend started great though, with this little surprise on my desk when I got to work on Friday!


Who doesn't like to get surprise love notes while they're gone! Thanks Meg :) We had a bit of a weird day on Friday as well, concerning a mystery shipment. A delivery guy arrives with some paperwork for something he wants to deliver, so I check it out. It's for our office, no specific name but there is a PO number. AHA! I tell the gentleman to bring it on in and run over to our Accounts Payable department to look up the PO. We find a name and I feel smug and satisfied that another delivery crises has been diverted.

And then he brings in the delivery.

As you can see by this photo, this does NOT look like something someone in my office would order.

YIKES! So I rip open the packing slip attached to the thing and I'm reading over the contents of the package and oh holy shit there is tear gas and flash grenades in these suckers!! One thing about being next to the Sheriff's department, and having a similar address, you sometimes get the wrong package. We debated on having our own war game, but opted to call them to pick up their supplies instead.

Needless to say, the weekend passed by far too quickly as it often does when it's full of excitement, but despite all the coming and going, I have little to tell. Except that last night at dinner at PF Changs (yum and YUM and can I say that I have some of the best friends ever who totally embraced getting a bunch of vegetarian dishes, complete with being excited about it! Love you ladies!) and our waiter starts asking questions about who's the vegetarian and asking me why (which is just kind of an awkward question for me to begin with, I don't know why) so I attempt to explain and in doing so reveal my major in school, to which he says he's an animal science major as well and that's probably where he recognized me from and then I was all "Oh wow, hold the phone bucko, you didn't say anything about recognizing me and now this conversation just got a whole lot more awkward considering I can't say I've ever seen you before in my life", which of course was in my head, out loud I just stammered an "Oh really....Uh...." and then when we left he gave a hearty "See you on campus!" and I just kind of nodded and ran.

Totally. Awkward.

Not that it's his fault, I'm generally the awkward kid in the bunch, but then I suppose some one's got to do it!

I am ridiculously cute and love playing with my feathers. Why am I halfway under the bed? Who knows, I'm just that kind of crazy cool.

Whooooooooo are yoooooooouu?

Another Manic Monday is upon me and I'm feeling slightly maniacal. I might have spent the better part of about 25 minutes of my last class today reading My Life Is Average on my phone. I know, it's a fantastic way to put my higher education experience to good use. But, I did find this gem:

"Today, I was in my car about to leave a parking lot. I got scared because my car started rolling forward unexpectedly, but then I realized it was just the car next to me backing up. MLIA"

That happens to me ALL the time! I'm so glad I'm not the only one.

I was antsy and pacing all afternoon at work waiting for the FedEx guy to arrive so that I could mug him and grab my photoshop software that was being delivered. He finally got here, I tore open the box and reveled at the beauty of the new software...until I read the fine print on the side....for systems requirements... requiring Microsoft Windows XP or higher and wait, what? Microsoft. Son of a bitch. I totally ordered the wrong platform. So I'll be spending the next year and a half of my life on hold waiting for a customer service person so I can arrange an exchange and wait for me to mail this sucker back and them to send a new one. Utter. Disappointment. and I am dumb. What the deuce.

Yesterday was sissy-pant's first softball tourney of the season and while they may not have done awesome, they still did good and we had a great day. Beautiful weather, sun, sunblock, snacks. Good times. Then I went and saw Alice in Wonderland and I must say Tim Burton, you do not disappoint. I wasn't really sure what to expect going in and was totally satisfied with my movie experience. Especially since AinW is my favorite Disney movie, my standards were exceptionally high that they not ruin it for me, and alas, they did not. Bravo.

After I got home from the movie I took a shower and went to blowdry my hair and ...nothing. Push the little buttons. Nothing. Try the top plug. Nothing. Push the buttons some more. Nothing. Try a different outlet in a different bathroom. Nothing. Throw the damn thing on the ground and try it again. Nothing. Needless to say, I was at Target on Saturday and then on Sunday my stupid blowdryer kicked the circuit breaker. So scary hair was my friend and I'll be hitting Target at some point in the very VERY near future considering my hair is not long enough to comfortably wear in ponytails for any extended amount of days. Blowdryer: 1 Anna: 0

In other news, I was on the phone with Megan this afternoon who gets excited and says she's off work in 3 minutes! While I still had an hour to go. She texts me with "FREEDOM!" shortly after 4. My response?

"Bitch. I'm going to sharpen my pen into a shive and come find you when I get on the outside."

Needless to say, I earned a snort which makes anyday, a good day.

The day between manic monday and humpday.

Let's just say it's official: I'm retarded.

I've done so many boneheaded things lately it's ridiculous. Yesterday in the library Starbucks I dropped my book and went "Oops!" and when I bent down to get it I whacked my head on the window and yelped an "Owie!". I clearly felt like being a noisy customer.

I desperately need to go grocery shopping but I'm just so damn lazy lately since payday that I haven't gone. So last night was "anything but the kitchen sink night" for dinner. Which equaled me banging around in my cupboards until I found something to eat. The end result? I had some corn and some crackers and garlic/sourcream dip. Dinner of champs y'all! :) Tonight I have to stop by the store and at least grab something though because that was all I had, that's it, no more. So if not, it's going to be just crackers or a tuna sandwhich for dinner.

Speaking of lazy, I've been such a slacker about going to the gym and running that my belly fat is getting arrogant. It smirks and waves at me even when I'm not in motion just because it knows I'm too tired to do anything about it. Unlike my sister, who is showing me up hardcore at the gym. If only I had her dedication, then I could turn that belly frown upside down.... or something like that. It's going to be hard to force myself to go to spinning tonight, but I'll do it dammit.

I'm researching a new camera, a fancy jazz one, so if I get it prepare to see lots of photos of random shit that is either intersting or weird. On that note, ciao!

Fork you, Fork you very much.

Hey'ya! As promised, here are the photos from Seattle. Not that most of you care since you've seen them on Facebook likely already, but for those who haven't, TA DA! I'm amazing, I know, it's ok, you can say it. There, don't you feel better? *ahem* Onward. ***Ignore the wacked out formatting at the bottom, I don't know what happened and I don't really care enough to spend the hours it would take to fix it, so enjoy!***

Getting ready to head into Pike's Place Market

Rawr. This shop had AMAZING finger puppets, I may have been a little too excited.

Lovely view of Seattle from Kerry Park.
I need to stop being friends with super models, they're bad for my self-esteem.

It's space. It's a needle. It's the space needle.

I want a wall like THIS!

Look, I'm being that guy from that drawing by that famous dude. You know, that one.

Road trip day! First stop: Port Townsend (PT). Read: Cold, windy but beautiful port city.

We finally made it all the way to Forks. It was kind of ghetto, let's just be honest. But still nifty.

PT

Road trip day continued through Olympic National Park. Jaw dropping beauty!

Say Cheese!

Bella's ride ya'll!

Final stop on road trip day was La Push. Gorgeous beach and cliffs but as you can see here from my "Oh my fucking god this beach is freezing and this California girl is not used to this on a beach" face, it was a tad chilly.

La Push Beach is COVERED in drift wood. It was such a spectacular site. I had another picture uploaded on here that was a great view up the beach, but my dumb ass just deleted it and I'm not taking the time to upload it again. Get over it.

And yes, the treaty line is posted. Legit.

Last day in Tacoma was spent hanging out with my bestie and enjoying some sunshine outdoors. We checked out Stadium High School, which is featured in the 10 Things I Hate About you movie, walked around a bit, then finished up with some frozen cokes. The life.


And last, but certainly not least, we had dinner with Nicole, the best college roommate a girl could ask for. This face, right there, with the blond hair? I haven't seen since my 21st birthday. RIDICULOUS. Such a good dinner. Not good? Is what happened after dinner...

Unfortunately after dinner we discovered Katie's poor car Bonnie had a flat. No problem right? We coast to the nearest gas station, a mere 5 blocks from her place, and roll on up to the air thinking we'd air that bitch up and deal with it in the morning. HA. Fucking air machine was out of order. Right, we can change a tire. Jack it up, take the lug nuts off. Wait, damn lug nuts are on so freaking tight we can't get them off. So the nice gas station attendant takes loosens them for us. We try pulling the tire off, it won't budge, and by trying to get it off the car falls of the jack. Seriously, I almost crapped myself and felt so bad about the situation. So a nice (COMPLETELY HOT!) stranger stopped to help us, got his jack since ours was mangled, jacked up the car and it rolls backwards. This is like the tire changing story from hell! Finally the tire is almost off but in a precarious position and the jack is wobbling so I told Katie to call a tow truck so her car didn't die a painful, sad death in a gas station parking lot. 30 minutes later, I've never been so happy to see a large tow truck in my life! Note to self: No matter how nice the weather is in the day, do NOT, I repeat, do NOT wear cute little flats out in Tacoma at night or your feet will freeze when standing on pavement for an hour and a half or more.
Needless to say our last night was a little stressful, and definitely lacked the chill vibe we had all weekend, but it was still a bloody fantastic trip and I can't wait to repeat it again in May!
Now, can someone find me an inflatable boat, I need a ride to my car, these heels aren't ment for wading in parking lot sized puddles.

A lesson in curtesy that I should have taught someone but thanks to hunger, they were saved.

Ok, here's the deal folks, when I get out of the gym after doing 4 miles on the treadmill and then a kick ass yoga class, I want to be able to run to my car (ok limp) and get in as quickly as possible because it's A.) cold and B.) I'm stinking STARVING. So I get to my car and some ass hat with a giant truck has parked in their spot AND in mine. No joke, I could not get in my car, and frankly, I think I might have barely have been able to squeeze my chubby ass between the two. So I had to climb in through my passenger door and crawl across to my seat THEN I had to fold in my sideview mirror to make sure I didn't hit their car because I'm nice like that.

Needless to say, I was pretty much cheesed and later realized, as my sister pointed out, I should have gone into the gym and made them page the owner to move it but meh, it was too fecking cold and I was ready to gnaw my arm off.

SO here's the memo folks, make sure you're in only your parking spot because next time, I won't be so nice!