Ever have those moments when you need someone and no one is around? Well right now I need ice cream and no one is around to indulge with me. This conundrum makes me think. Is the fact that no one wants to get ice cream with me a sign that I should just pass? Probably. Next question. Do I care that I will have to enjoy a cold sugary delight by myself? Eh. TBD.
I think the fact that I am taking the time to write on this blog about how badly I want ice cream means that I should get some. This is how my mind works.
I’ll let you know how this turns out next post.
I may be revealing a little too much about what a weeknight-loser I am, but those of you who know me already know this fact; most evenings I workout after work and then try to do things which will make the next day better….like relax, read some blogs I didn’t get to that day, or do some freelance work.
The photos above are what I’m doing when I’m not doing anything. I sit at the computer and the Choo sits beside me. Sometimes it feels like I’m walking a slippery slope downwards into cat-lady-dom.
On a different note, check out how pissed off Chitty looks in the bottom picture. Mwhaha.
Over Easter I thought I’d get a little festive and try to do some springtime baking. I love Martha Stewart, so I decided to try her chrysanthemum cupcakes. It may have been a little ambitious, but I figured I took a few sculpture classes in college so maybe I could figure out. Well, I was wrong. WAY WRONG.
First things first. Although I like to bake (aka..eat the dough/batter and hope I don’t get salmonella or wish on my lucky stars that my sister doesn’t see me and berate me for being unsanitary) obviously, I’m lacking some skillz in that department.
My first mistake was that I chose to make my cupcakes out of angel food. I did this because supposedly its slightly healthier than regular cake. Little did I know that Betty Crocker angel-food-cake-in-a-box is the pastry equivalent of cotton candy. Just the slightest touch, and it shrivels to nothing. So when I tried to remove my cupcakes from the cupcake tin, everywhere I touched ended up as dented and lopsided as the 1994 Toyota Previa that my parents drove forever until people started asking them if the van was in roll-over accident.
It only got worse from there. Did you know that icing is made out of three ingredients. Butter, sugar, and a very miniscule amount of vanilla extract. Note to readers: don’t eat icing unless you wish to slowly kill yourself. Also, butter is very hard to squeeze through a cake decorator’s icing tip thingermabobber. Needless to say this foray into the baking world it ended up in a lubed-up buttery mess.
I managed to make one of the cupcakes look mildly cute (see the bottom picture). It doesn’t really hold a candle to Martha yet, but maybe someday. :)
I have to give a presentation tomorrow. In front of actual people. Who I care to impress. and I’m about to sh*t myself.
The thought of soberly getting up in front of people to talk is terrifying to me. This entire problem goes back to the whole shy issue I wrote about in my first blog post (except I can’t calm my nerves with tequila shots for this one) and the entire reason I titled this blog That’s What I Meant to Say.
Wikipedia calls my fear glossophobia. What a weird name. For some reason I keep thinking of glossy fingernails or those shiny coated folders students have, but maybe that is because just saying the words “public speaking” makes me want to run away screaming and crying. I’d almost rather light my hair on fire than get up and talk in front of a group of people. (you think I’m exaggerating, but i’m not. my eyes literally go black like i’ve been in a handstand for too long and I have an out of body experience when I have to do any sort of public speaking, not to mention the clammy sweating, shortness of breath, and general need to pass out, I can’t control it)
The picture is of my schedule for the next few hours. I plan on practicing my presentation starting at 7:00 AM. Please send some good vibes my way.
While I am already starting off on a bad foot on the schedule (I’m past my sleep deadline) I really appreciate all of the moral support and scheduling advice Darth Lee Dark Lord of the Code has given me. And if you’re wondering, he IS a real person and I think he is even an occasional blog reader!
On a final note, I feel like I’m being sent to the guillotine so please, please, please, think about me tomorrow at about 9:00 AM and hope that I don’t have any “thats what I meant to say” moments.
I’m going to cry now. Goodnight.
UPDATE: I am still breathing and it actually went well! Phew.
I haven’t posted in a while because business has gotten in the way of blogging, so I figure I’ll bring back a little piece of nostalgia from the days when life was one never-ending party. Not that I want life to be one never-ending party again, but I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t have to go across the country to see these people. I miss you guys!
Two summers ago, some college buddies and I went camping somewhere in central Louisiana, near Eunice I think. The adventure started when a mullet-sporting man named “Bearcat” (bottom picture) brought us upriver for a canoe trip. He was decked out in neon and tie dye, not to mention his shirt said “canoe naked” on the front.
The trip was tons of fun and one of my favorite pictures of all time was snapped: Mini-H riding on K’s shoulders, looking like the happiest little oompa loompa that ever was (top pic).
Thanks to Marcelle for remembering/commenting on this pic on Facebook the other day. I laugh out loud every time I see it too.
This past Saturday, I helped some friends celebrate their 25th birthdays (it was a joint celebration for all the March birthdays). The theme was Party Like It’s 1985, so obviously, we all wore 1980s attire.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get a group shot, but there were quite a few creative interpretations of the decade. The most original award goes to the “New” Coke costume, which consisted of a red dress with letters cut out to look like a coke can and a coke tab hat (New Coke came out in 1985).
I was feeling a little rebellious so instead of dressing as my normal 1980s prom, my costume channeled more of a 1980s rocker. If you know me, you know I’m almost as girly/frilly as it gets when it comes to clothing, so this is really out on a limb. In the photo above I’m attempting to give my most hardcore rocker face. Clearly, it is an epic failure and maybe next time I should stick to what I know and just smile in order to avoid looking like the dork that I am (lesson learned).
Also, somehow I managed to lose my glasses, so if anyone finds them please return them! I will be forever grateful…..well not really forever, but I may give you a hug.
Oh, and just a little word of caution to my readers, mixing three different types of alcohol on any given night still hurts as much today as it did in college.
I was photographing some old design work the other night and I noticed this mysterious shadow moving around on the paper. At first I thought that maybe it was something I was doing wrong on the camera, then i thought maybe it could be a ghost. OOOO Spooky!…..hmmm what could it be?
I zoomed out to find my answer.
Go figure.
In about three weeks I’m competing in a half-Ironman race in New Orleans. It is my first triathlon (why I picked a half-Ironman for my first is something that is hard to explain to people, so don’t ask unless you really want to know) and I need to figure out what one wears for such things. I went to the store yesterday to inquire about it and much to my horror, realized I was going to have to wear a spandex bodysuit!
So with much bravery, I purchased my Spandex self-inflicted torture trap with the agreement that if I got home, looked in the mirror, and decided that it was just too embarrassing, I could bring it back. I haven’t actually tried it on at home yet, but I know that it hides no bodily flaws and like most women, I’m self-conscious about certain areas. So wish me luck and send confidence vibes my way because it will be hard to complete a one-mile open water swim in a sweatshirt (not to mention the 56 mile bike and 13 mile run. What have I gotten myself into?!).
Obviously, this is not the best picture of me. It was taken during my family vacation to the Boundary Waters in Minnesota. It is a place of pure wilderness, middle of nowhere, detached from phones, email, television, and news awesomeness.
There is no makeup allowed, except when I was 14 and insisted on bringing my “makeup truck” as my family called it, everywhere, even hardcore canoe to your campsite camping. I have no idea why I did this. I just felt like I always needed to be prepared. Which brings me to my topic of “Logic and Reason”.
Why do people do things? The number one instinct of any human is to stay alive (at least in healthy living things). After that, I’m not really sure people do things they way they do. Maybe one of my psych friends can help me out on this one.
Furthermore, why do animals do what they do? Did this teen-incey leetle fish really think that faux minnow/lure thing could fit in his belly? I assume he was going to take bites out of it to kill it and leave the rest for his friends, but what if that minnow had teeth and bit back? Just a question to ponder.
