flooded

Do you know anyone incapable of using a washing machine without flooding their house?

No?

Now you do.

my 2009 workout obsession

saturdays at noon, oklahoma and canada go bollywood.

Cheerios of the future

These Cheerios are so tasty they cause people's mouths to move at a different rate than the words they're saying.



And look at that new-fangled box.

3rd date rule

After a 3rd encounter in a friend group I maintain that it is well within social norms to go in for the hug. Particularly when the other party comes toward you with his or her arm out in the Pre-hug Position.

Do be warned however, that the Pre-hug Position bares striking resemblance to the beginnings of the Jovial Handshake.

And while the intentions of the Jovial Handshake and the hug may be identical, I warn the reader further that in the few seconds before contact is made (and recognition has dawned on one or both of the parties) the Pre-hug Position cannot be stealthily converted into the Jovial Handshake.

Unless your idea of stealth involves being smacked in the head while stepping on the other person's feet.

Words that keep popping up that I swear I'd never heard before.

Knee-break.
Braggadocio.

To Resolve

Turns out I am now old enough, and boring enough, to feel motivated to make New Year's Resolutions.

1. I will be more socially active. The Canadian and I have discussed making a weekly happy hour commitment. This goes hand in hand with my vow to attend more social events/get out more/ make an effort to engage new people. Which is why I went out and was awkward at a party tonight instead of remaining on the couch, watching When Harry Met Sally.

2. I will read more. No one would ever know I was an English major in college. Or that I have literary inclinations. Or that I have a brain. That's because at some point I stopped reading very much. But I think I have figured out the cause of my delinquency, and so I directed myself into a non-fiction kick, which I expect to continue. Not because I declare it so, but because I want it so.

3. I will blog more. Ooooh, how meta.

I'm Such an Ass

Somehow, over the course of my life, I have become known as a frazzled, clumsy person.

It probably has something to do with having larger than average feet attached to the bottom of my legs. And the untamed nature of my locks. That is not to say I don't fall down a lot. I do. And break things. Not bones so much, as chairs and things of that nature.

Every time I find myself on the ground, or somehow awkwardly caught on a rogue tree branch, I have two thoughts, one after the other:
1) I'm such an ass. I really hope nobody saw that.
2) That was hilarious. I really hope somebody saw that.

Like most, I possess the basic human instinct to save face. And to refrain from appearing a total spaz.

However a mere retelling can never capture the rawness of my idiotic maneuvers. It never fails that I always hope some one out there got a first-hand look. (It may have something to do with that strange giddiness that comes with connecting, even briefly, to people you don't know.)

Even so, there are those rare events when a clumsy move goes unwitnessed. I usually say to myself, "I'm such an ass. Thank God no one saw that. I am never telling anyone about that."

Which lasts a whole 10 minutes.
I cannot help but divulge my own secrets, perpetuate my own stereotypes.

There is poetry in the time I got a straw stuck so far up my nose, my nose began to bleed; symmetry in walking onto Proctor Terrace with my skirt tucked into my underwear; awe in each stained blouse, simplicity in all the broken chairs and beauty in each and every wipe-out.