Don't Dye!

Man! This is just not my week for sanity! I'm having little freak out sessions all the time! Here's whats going on today:

I decided I needed a change. I've been feeling a little blah because I just am having the hardest time losing this baby weight and I feel pukey. So I decided I was going to dye my hair. Not a huge change because I didn't want the upkeep, I just wanted to dye it a dark red. So I did that tonight.

Don't freak out and hope for a picture, it barely looks any different at ALL. Poo. Really honest, you can't tell unless the light hits it just right. Double poo.

So not only am I disappointed about the turn out, I'm also freaking out a little. You see, they put in the directions that you should do a skin test thing, to make sure you don't have a reaction to the hair dye. I haven't dyed my hair in about 10 years, but I've dyed it before and not actually DIED, so we're all good right? Besides I have absolutely ZERO patience to wait 48 hours before I actually do it, if I want it done I'm going to do it RIGHT NOW. And like I said, I did.

But now I feel a little sick. And like my face is swelling and like my head is crushing in on my brain. I really do! I swear I'm not exaggerating, there are serious sweat beads on my upper lip!

I really hope I don't dye--I mean DIE!

You know what else? Hair dye stinks really bad. Its making me feel sick. I mean sickER than I already do...

UPDATE: I did not die in the night, although when I was woken at 1am and rolled over to look at the clock and the numbers were all fuzzy I seriously thought "I'M GOING BLIND BECAUSE OF THE HAIR DYE!!!" Yes I need help.

Things Go BumB in the Night!

Okay, I never came back and blogged the other day. BUT I'm here NOW and thats really all that matters right?! Right. Whatever don't roll your eyes at me, I can feel it.

So I've had quite a scare tonight and I'm still not sure if its over. You see, as I said in my last non-post that my four month old is trying to crawl. He's on the floor a lot and thats a problem because my next two older children feel the need to step on him and drag him around and whatnot. SO, I wanted to get him a bumbo to sit in for when he just needs to get away from those other naughty kids. (Side note: whenever I think "bumbo" I automatically think "bimbo"--its just the way my mind works.)

For those of you who don't know, this is a bumbo:

It is a magically awesome baby seat. No really, it is seriously cool. Even a little tiny baby like mine can sit up in it perfectly. Their little butts just conform to it or something.

They run from $30 to $40 bucks and I just don't think they're that awesome. So I went on craigslist and found one for $15. Score!

Fast forward to tonight.

I made my husband go pick up the bumbo because I had visions of being hit over the head and dragged into a dark alley if I went myself. Also because he had a meeting right after, so I figured he could just pick it up and go to the meeting. Easier, plus no me in a gutter anywhere. Win/Win!

So its after the pick up time and I haven't heard from him, I figure he's in his meeting but its a casual meeting so I text him to make sure he got out of the ghetto alright.

Nothing.

Send another text. Nothing.

Call. NO ANSWER.

Call again. Maybe four more times. STILL NO FREAKING ANSWER.

Send two more texts telling him if he could just text a letter or something so I know he's alive that would be good. Get nothing back.

Until at one point I FINALLY get a text back saying he's in his meeting. WHATEVER thats what the kidnappers WANT ME TO THINK!

He's home now so I know he's okay. Unless they brainwashed him and he's going to kill me in my sleep...?!

I know I have issues, a fear if you will, of dying in a horrible way. But hey, we got a bumbo out of it! So it all worked out in the end. Even if I won't be able to sleep tonight and my stomach's all in knots, its allllll good.

G'night, see ya tomorrow...I hope!

The PeePee Wars

It was a gray, overcast morning. The woman sat at her computer, checking her e-mail. The fussy baby sat on her lap. She had tuned out the whimpering and had patted and bounced and burped until there was nothing left to do. Suddenly, she felt a warm sensation on her leg. A very warm sensation and it was spreading. She quickly pulled the baby away to reveal the damp spot. She had been peed on. And it was on.

Baby one = mom zero.

It was a fairly cool day but the sun was shining. The woman pulled the carseat out of her mini van and proceeded to enter the doctor's office. She waited for an exorbitant amount of time when the doctor finally came into the room. He went about his doctorly business, poking and prodding and listening to heartbeats. The little baby had gotten poked four times and was a little angry. When it came time for the diaper to be pulled away and the doctor to check everything out, the baby had a plan. Just a moment longer, and...whizzzz. The doctor had been peed on. And it was on.

Baby two = mom feels stupid.

It was a nice day. The sun was shining and everyone was in a fantastic mood. The baby was wrapped up tight and sleeping in his play pen. The mom was cleaning up and the little sister was playing. As the little sister looked around for something new and interesting to play with, her eyes spotted something that caught her attention. What was this little piece of clothe? Its peculiar shape, its soft material, its uncanny resemblance to a little tiny birthday hat...she knew exactly what to do with it. The little girl turned around calling out to her mother. "Look mom! Look at my hat! hehehehe!" The mother yelped and quickly grabbed the object off her daughter's head, revealing the true nature of the beast. It was a pee-pee tee-pee, used to catch the pee when you change a little boy's diaper, and she had unwittingly placed it on her fair head. She had been inadvertently peed on. And it was on.

Baby three = mom... Actually I think that was a win-win that one.

Its Raining, Its Pouring...Showers

As I sit here considering taking a shower I think, "Showers are complicated."

You wouldn't think they're that complicated, that you just get in and wash up and get out, but NO, they ARE complicated.

When I was a teenager I used to lay on the bath floor and just sleep for awhile, while the shower washed down, it was so nice. I took long showers then.

Taking showers as a mom is different, there's usually a little kid that wants to accompany you, so you spend most the time trying not to step on them as they play with a Barbie or something at your feet.

Taking showers PREGNANT, even worse. I get so tired standing there, I've resorted to using a stool. Yes, I sit on a stool when I shower. The biggest problem with this, is I don't want to ever get up, I want to go back to being a teenager and just sleep in there. Except then my 2 year old wants to get in too and fights me over usage of the stool. Its quite annoying!

I also have hot water issues. I cannot leave the water alone! I can't just turn it on hot and be happy, NO! I probably adjust the water 15-20 times in the 10 minutes I'm in there. Just a little hotter...oohhh, thats a little too hot! Ouch! Okay, down a little...nope, thats not hot enough. Its stupid but I think I'm a little OCD about it.

So you see my problem, showers are complicated.

What simple things in your life do you make complicated?

p.s. I like to get out of the shower and step on the mat and leave two perfect footprints on there. I don't know why it just makes me happy.

Guacamole...

So I have this little friend. Actually "friend" is the complete wrong word to use, more like horrible awful little menace. Yes, yes, thats more like it.

Awhile ago I noticed a big red bump on the side of my collar bone. I thought, "hmmmm, I don't remember that being there before...but I think its a mole that my son scratched...yeah, I think thats it." So I thought this red lump was a mole that was a little irritated. (Just to recap, if you didn't get that from my thoughts already.) So I was a good little Melinda, and left it alone. Until it didn't go away. A few weeks later and it was still there, same as the day I first saw it.

Now if you know me, I'm a zit popper. If you're not a zit popper you'll think I'm disgusting. But if you ARE a zit popper, you'll understand the self-restraint I had in those few weeks to not touch that thing. More in character would have been for me to mutilate that thing until it desired to never live again!!! So I got annoyed with the thing not going away and it looked like to me, less like a red mole, and more like a blood blister. And my thinking was that if there was blood in there, that it really wanted to come out. Right?! And then it could finally heal and go away.

So I took a needle and I popped it. And to not be completely graphic or whatever, it bled. A LOT. And I may have poked it a few (many, many) more times.

And now?

Well, now its angry.

I swear every time I look in the mirror its glaring at me, festering and irritated and threatening my family. I'm a little scared of it.

So my sister and I named it Paco. Except I don't think thats how you spell it, I think Guido is also very fitting. I don't know why, it just works.

What I really think honestly (now that I've left it alone and bothered it, I've come to this conclusion because I'm super smart...), is that with all these raging pregnant hormones that once I'm not pregnant it will go away. Really! I think its going to work...

Or else I'm going to have to go to drastic measures. Like actually seeking professional help.

On a few different levels...

Woah, that Smells BAD!

Ohhhhhh, woe is me. Woe, woe...woah. No, I'm okay. Not so much woe today!

My son caught a bug or something and has been throwing up since tuesday. He only threw up once yesterday morning, so I thought he was done; but no, 1 am last night he was up and at it again. So I want to think he's done today, but I'm scared that at some random moment he's going to turn and huck all over me. Its a great way to live. Keeps you on the edge of your seat for sure.

My house smells like barf.

The boy up chucked right by my computer chair, so now whenever I'm on the computer (and that may or may not be a LOT), I get the pleasure of smelling vomit. "Why don't you clean it up then, hmmmm?" whats that you say? Well smarty pants, I HAVE! MANY, MANY, MANY times. In fact I've sprayed so much crap and chemicals and whatnot on that spot I'm surprised I haven't made a hole there. But the smell won't go away! I think part of the problem is that since I can't stand the smell I keep spraying it and it won't dry, and I think it needs to dry to really stop smelling. But it smells so BAD! Must. Keep. Spraying.

Oh look, chocolate! Yum...

Maybe I'll go buy a small bag of kitty litter to soak up the junk and maybe that will help. But then I'd have to take the boy out in public and what if he pukes in the middle of Wal-Mart?

Woe...woah?

I think I'll spray this baby down one more time and go make some banana bread. Later!

Whoever Said "Money Doesn't Buy Happiness" was Never Poor!

Since I've been married, my husband has always taken care of the bills. I mean, heck I was 18 when we got married, I wouldn't have trusted me either! But now that my husband is gone (are you getting sick of hearing that yet? Four more months of it, get used to it.), guess what? I have to take care of EVERYTHING.

There's a couple problems with this though.

I hate calling people. I don't even like calling most people I know, and now I have to call people in much more uncomfortable situations. As in calling about bills, or the stupid shirts we bought from my daughter's stupid school three months ago and they still haven't come. Not to mention the fact that there is no way I'm answering a number I don't recognize, and of course they never leave a message (not that I would call back anyway, but no message = no guilt for not answering.) Its been rough trying to push myself out of my comfort zone, really rough. Someone called today asking for my husband, I told them he wasn't here and if I could take a message. They said "oh, we'll just try and get him at home." and I said "He's at basic training in South Carolina." and the moron said "Ohhhhh, well...we'll just try him later at home." Can't say I was very polite when I started laughing and said "Alrighty then! BYE!"

The other thing I had to do was our income taxes. Boy was that a joy! I've never had to do them before, and thank the Lord for TurboTax because I would've been a big pile of goo by the end of the process without it. I do have to say though, the nice thing about doing the taxes and being the only adult around to decide how to spend it is pretty awesome. I'm so treating myself to something awesome when it gets here! I mean, after I pay back my mom and pay our bills and get the stuff we need that I've been holding out for...so something awesome after all that.

Oh February 12th you can't get here soon enough!

My Saturday, so far....dun dun dun

8:11 am- I'm woken up to a sort of rhythmic 'thump, thump' next door, which makes me roll my eyes and hate our neighbors just a little bit more. Whats worse is it dies down enough for me to start to fall back asleep before they pick things up again...this goes on for about half an hour. Me waking up by their noise, trying to fall back asleep and then eventually annoyed to all get out wondering why my life is full of cliche's. Everybody hears about if you live in an apartment, you're going to be woken by your neighbor's doing it, but it happens to me ALL the TIME. If we ever stay in a motel/hotel/whatever it is guaranteed that I'm going to hear thuds sometime in the middle of the night when I want to be sleeping. And I've come to the conclusion that these people are so loud because they WANT you to know they're doing it. It must be a sick kind of turn on or something, because I just don't know how you can make that much noise...

8:45 am- I finally drag my fat, achy body out of bed and wobble downstairs. Eat some Reese's Puffs (yum...) and go back upstairs to shower. My 20 month boy usually showers with me because there ain't no way I'm letting him roam the house alone and most likely catch something on fire. He's gotten in the habit of calling my boobs "yucky", because he tried to grab at me last week and I said "yucky! No touching!" Do you think I've scarred him? Yeah right, that gene is too deeply ingrained...

9:30 am- I check my e-mail and facebook and get stuck on what to put as my status. I type something out, find it incredibly stupid and erase it. Do this five or so more times and come up with something generic and safe and boring...

10:14 am- Have to PEE!! Run to the bathroom and sit down only to discover that the last little tushie that sat here dribbled on the seat and I've now sat in it. Oh the joy's of parenthood. Hey, atleast they're potty trained and I don't have to change another stinkin diaper...

11:45 am- It hits! Every child within a hundred mile radius wants a snack--RIGHT NOW! They're all demanding: I want this, I want that, NOW NOW NOW! And of course they all want different things. My son wants fruit snacks, which he isn't getting because he just chews them up and spits them on the floor. But everything I point to he says in a very firm "NO!" until I just pick something and hand it to him. He throws himself on the floor, kicking and saying "NO! NO!" until he looks at it and takes it anyway...

noon- I'm ready to go back to bed...

Why Men Are Dumb

So I was thinking the other day in the shower (its where I do all my best thinking--no, seriously) how unfair the difference between men and women are. As a teenager, and really now too lets be honest, I was a total romantic. I would daydream about the boy I had a crush on all the time, I would spend tons of time imagining what it would be like when we got married or picture him thinking about me just as much as I was thinking about him...sickening I know. Now, the sad realization hits me:

Men don't think about us, nearly as much as we think about them.

Those jerks.

And I don't mean that they don't think about us at all, because they do, they think about what we're going to make them for dinner, or about what we asked them to do that day, you know, stupid kind of stuff.

They don't sit around on their breaks at work thinking how soft our skin is, or how pretty the gold specks in our eyes are, or how they would just die if they couldn't be with us...sigh

And that is why I love Twilight, because Edward is a girl and says all the right things a girl wants to hear. I need a little more girl in my husband and a little less sports addict. :)

Arrrr Me Mateys!

My favorite "naughty" joke:

A pirate walks into a bar. The bartender notices the pirate has placed his steering wheel in his pants, and mentions it to the pirate. The pirate responds with:

"Arrrrr...it's driving me nuts!"


Tee hee!


Whats your favorite joke?

Watch Out for My Broom!

Kids have a lot of toys. I'm fairly positive that toys breed, because I never buy toys, but when I go in my kids room, there are TONS of toys. Its insane. Where did they come from? Why don't they leave? Don't they know they aren't welcome here?

The other problem with the millions of toys, is that my kids can't/won't possibly put them all away. So they're everywhere, all the time. I hate it.

My solution? Whenever I sweep up the floor, whatever's on the floor goes in the trash can. You should see my kids scramble when I bring the broom out, all of a sudden they're diving to the floor trying to save their favorite toys before mom can sweep them into oblivion. Its awesome. A two in one, the toys get put away and my kids get some excercise.

So, how do you keep your kid's toys in check?

Cold Hearted Lunch

So I was over at Regarding Annie, whom I adore, and she was talking about school lunches. It made me think back to my childhood days when I had lunch. Except I didn't get to buy lunch at school, like EVER. My mom made us lunch, in a nice brown paper bag (I HATE those bags), she was a healthy mom and so in our lunch were pretty much the same things every day. A sandwich, an apple or orange, a treetop juice (she couldn't even get good juice like Caprisun or anything!), maybe at some point there was chips (but not even like bagged chips, like she took a sandwich bag and put some chips in there), and one cookie (homemade).

I hated those stupid lunches.

After sitting in your backpack all day, your sandwich is smashed. The peanut butter is crystallizing, the juice is warm (and its 100% healthy--blech), the chips are all smashed up and the only good thing in there is the cookie. So thats about all I would eat and throw the rest away.

I THREW IT AWAY--EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

I can't even imagine the amount of money I wasted over the years, its just too horrible to think about...

So one time, I shoved my lunch in the bottom of my locker (this is in junior high now) and I left it there (since I obviously wasn't going to eat it), and I left it and I left it and...I left it. Until the orange that was in there was totally rotten. And not only rotten, but STINKING. I was too embarrassed to take it out, because what if someone saw it?! It finally got so bad that I snuck it out one day, but seriously that is how bad I hated lunch time.

Were you one of the cool kids that got to buy lunch? (I hate you.)

Liar, Liar Pants on Fire!

I was totally inspired by Chief's fake list of lies she posted yesterday, she kills me! But what's sad about her fake list is that it reminded me of real lies I've actually told! Sad I know, but really I think they're mostly pretty funny stories. Or horrible, you choose.

Lie #1:

When I was a junior in high school (I'm not telling you the year, I don't need to hear how "young" I am, and I don't want you to know), I worked for a grocery store name Safeway as a courtesy clerk. I bagged groceries, cleaned the bathrooms, got the carts from the parking lot. It was very glamorous. My very best friend's birthday party was that Saturday and I tried and tried to get someone to take my shift, but they wouldn't. I was NOT going to miss that party, so I called in sick and said I had food poisoning. A week or so later, I get called into my manager's office. "Melinda, did you really have food poisoning the other day?" "Uhhhhhmmmm, YES, I went to Taco Bell and got some really bad food and was throwing up all night. MMmm hmmm... thats it." Intense stares into my soul. "Now Melinda, are you sure there isn't anything you want to tell us?" I broke like a fat kid for a candy bar, "I'm so sorry! It was my best friends birthday....bawwwwl, bawwwl bawwl!!" I think I didn't get fired because they'd never seen anyone cry so hard. And just so you know it was a stupid girl who told on me. I hate her.


Lie #2:

When I was a senior in high school everyone could buy a senior t-shirt, made special for that graduating class. I WANTED one of those shirts, I did, I did, I did. But I didn't have the money for it, and my parents were cheap. Or I was too scared (or lazy) to ask them. So instead I took the receipt from my friend and rushed over right when the bell rang to the kid handing out the t-shirts and in a hurry said "here's my receipt from the office, I paid for my shirt, give it to me!" He acted a little suspicious, but hey I was cute so he gave it to me. I'm sure I will burn in hell for stealing.

Lie #3:

When I was in junior high it was report card time. Just in the middle of the year, so it wasn't like AS important as final grades. But I got a "D" in one of my classes. I didn't want the wrath of Dad, so I took a pencil and very carefully put a line through that "D" to make it look like a "B". It really looked good, my parents had no clue until later in the year the teacher called to tell them I was failing. Then the crap hit the fan.


Lie #4:

This happened in the last recent years and I still feel horrible over it because I'm an adult and should be able to handle myself. But alas, it happened and now you'll know I am a schmuck. So anyway, for a Young Women's activity we decided to play with marshmallow guns. Except when it came to that night, it was raining outside. So we thought, what they hay, we'll play inside...in the Primary room...Yeah. Smart. So we had a great time playing marshmallow wars, until we turned the lights on and realized there were hundreds of marshmallows stuck/ground/cemented into the floor. We cleaned and cleaned and cleaned, but we couldn't get all of them out. The next morning I went to the church for Humanitarian, and a sweet older woman in our ward was all "WHAT happened in the Primary room?!" And I was all like "I don't know....thats terrible...who would do that?"
Gah. I'm such a jerk.


Lie #5:

When I was in high school, the Palmyra Temple was being dedicated and all the teenagers were invited to watch early that morning as it was broad casted to the Stake Center. But we would miss a little bit of school, which was alright with us! So my mom wrote me a note to miss the first part of school and arranged for another lady from church to take me to school after. But when it came time to go back to school, some of my other friends weren't going to go. So I told the lady that I had another ride and went back to one if their houses with them. I stayed at my friend's house ALL DAY. Like I didn't come home until like seven that night. My mom was PISSED and wasn't going to write a note for me to be excused the next day. So I forged a new one. (Guy I sound horrible!) But my mom had called the school the day before, so they knew I didn't have a note from her. I think I got detention for that one. And a lot of grounding at home.


So there you go, can we still be friends? Tell me some of your lies so I feel better.

Creepy Crawlies

Have you ever felt like something was crawling on you, only to discover there IS something crawling on you? And then the rest of the day you walk around slapping at yourself and feeling itchy and people stare at you because you're constantly twitching and grabbing at unseen bugs, but you can't help it because what if the real bug laid eggs on you and they're hatching all day?!?

Yeah, I know. It sucks.

Never Wear Silk Underwear...Unless You Like Them A LOT

So I've been vacationing and the last few posts I'd scheduled to go out before I left. This is one of those posts. I could be having a fantastic vacation or I could be having a horrible vacation right this minute...this feels so futuristic...

But instead of the future, I'm blogging about the past today.

When I was younger, like 9-ish, I loved silky underwears. They were bright colors, like turquoise and pink, and man were they silky!

I rode the bus to school. Stupid bus.

One day I was wearing my silky underoos and on top of those I was wearing these stretch pants that had a little skirt attached to them. It was ugly.

It was my turn to get off the bus, but when I stood up the little skirt got stuck underneath me and I flashed my silky drawers to a cute boy next to me.


He laughed really loud and started yelling "I saw Melinda's underwear!! hahahahaha!"

Our bus driver was pretty butch. In fact, if you didn't know better you would've thought she was a man. Her name was even "Terry" like that cleared things up.

Anyway, she yelled at the kid and I felt better.

The end.

Where I use Quotation Marks WAY too Much

I'm still really in "Girls' Camp Mode," so I'm having a hard time coming up with blog fodder. And by "Girls' Camp Mode" I mean REALLY TIRED.

Also not helping my situation is that I'm reading the last Harry Potter book and I've got "Potter Brain." And by "Potter Brain" I mean REALLY TIRED.

ALSO not helping my situation is that I'm on my period so I've got "Aunt Flo" going on. And by "Aunt Flo" I mean I'm REALLY TIRED.

Last night I was so ridiculously tired and irritated and annoyed and impatient I was actually scared. I was thinking inside my insanely tired head that I might need to go to the doctor and tell him that I'm crazy, and I'm tired and I'm CrAzY and what was I going to DO?!

I haven't been to a "regular" doctor in a while, I've been to the baby doctor, you know, in the last year or whatever, but I haven't had a "check-up" in well, let's say it should've happened a long time ago...in a land far, far away...(I don't know why I said that, I just felt like it.)

But I think the longer you put something off the harder it is to do. You know, like that pile of crap you have in the corner of your room, its been there so long your eyes just glaze over it (if that), and you never even think about it. So nice!

PLUS, I'm really busy, so I just can't be bothered with that silly stuff... yeah.


What kind of important stuff do you put off?

Meat Transformation

Yesterday I saw Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.



Can I say:



AAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEE!!

>insert amazing picture of Shia and me running away from Decepticons (that I would do myself, except blogger SUCKS and won't let me post pictures!!!)<

I love the Transformer movies, mostly for the fact that Shia's in them, and as we all know, I love Shia.

But seriously, the graphics, Shia, its Transformers!, and Shia... swooooon

Anyway, I had a lot of fun until we went to Tucanos for dinner.

Have you ever been to a Brazilian restaurant? The kind where they bring you lots of meat on spits and you eat lots of meat and meat and meat!!

Have you?

Well, let me tell you, there's a lot of meat eating there.

And let me introduce you to the "MEAT SWEATS". The meat sweats occur when you've eaten too much meat. Its like you've eaten so much meat, its trying to escape through your pores.

And yet, we do it a couple times a year. My husband looks forward to the four or five times a year where he knows he will eat so much he gets sick. WHY DO WE DO THIS TO OURSELVES?!

I'm not sure, but man I want some meat now. And Shia.

Popular Schmopular

What is it about cliques?

When I was in high school--just like any high school--there were the popular kids, the nerds, the goth, the average kids; you know: CLIQUES.

Did you guys like high school? I don't want to say I didn't. But I didn't. Sure there were lots of things I liked about high school, good experiences, etc. etc. What I didn't appreciate was having to be "cool" for people to be nice to you. I never fit in any sort of group. I had really nerdy friends, I had really popular friends, I knew kids who were jocks, my best friend was absolutely gorgeous; but I was not one of the popular kids.

And I so longed to be one of the popular kids. SOooooo longed for it.

Now that I'm "older" and much more "mature," I realize...WHO THE HECK CARES?! Being "popular" is very much overrated.

One of my Young Women asked me when girls grow up if it changes. I hated that I couldn't 100% positively say OF COURSE IT DOES! Because a lot of women don't change. And the catty, mean, back-biting crap doesn't stop. In fact, sometimes it gets worse. And I have to wonder, why?

This may be SO cliche but, "can't we all just get along?!"

Well, can't we? And now, share your thoughts, please.

Death With a Funny Twist

So, I'm really glad some of you guys get my dark humor. (Kristina, when the swine flu first started, I would randomly yell "SWINE FLU!!!" all the time. I love you. Is that creepy? hm) I never realized I had such dark humor until a few years ago when I was at a Girls Camp for the week, and everyone kept pointing out that all my "fun" camp songs had to do with death. And anytime we HAD to do stuff I was sick of doing I would say "Just kill me already!!" So yeah, I talk about death a lot, that doesn't make me a bad person does it?

One of my other favorite sayings? "You're dead to me." I say it ALL THE TIME.

But you know what? I grew up in western Washington. It can be a pretty depressing area, it rains A LOT, its gray and cloudy and we're all a bunch of artsy/poetic/hopped up on coffee weirdo's. The suicide rate in Washington is the highest in the nation, I think I read that somewhere.

So you either cope with that and start joking around, or...I guess you can not cope with it and whatever.

But I do feel bad sometimes when people don't get the humor and think I'm a crazy or something. ("Man, she's MEAN!" "She said she would kill me!" "I think that woman just threatened me!" See, all bad things.) Because I totally get it, but they think I'm a heartless wench. Not what I was going for.

Maybe I'll just rot in...well, you know. (ha ha, right?!)

What Happened to Your Face?!

On display here is some hard factual evidence. Look at these pictures. I said LOOK--look at them!! DO IT! (I'm sorry to subject you to such horrific experiences, but you'll be a better person for it, I'm sure):


Examine photo #1:


And photo #2:


And last, photo #3:



Okay, now that you can see what I'm talking about, I have to confess. I have a terrible problem. Look through the pictures again, and come back. Go on, look again. WAIT! Don't. I'm sure they're scorched into your memory already.

So, after looking through my pictures, I realized I have two problems (yes, only two...). Number one being there is something severely wrong with my face.

And number two, I need more clothes. All my pictures I have the same orange cardigan on! Even go look at the blogger luncheon pictures--ORANGE CARDIGAN! Sure I love it, but man I need more than one go-to outfit. Sheesh.

And yes, of course, I'm focusing on the shopping problem and not the face one. The shopping one is much easier to fix, and much more enjoyable. :)