so, back in my college days, if someone made a statement of fact that wasn't common knowledge, like 'david and jonathan were lovers' or 'hezekiah had a pitt bull,' someone else might pipe up with 'state your source!' wherein the first person would be required to qualify how they knew what they knew. this has trickled down into my daycare.
- miss rachel, the biggest muffin in the world is from here to the roof!
- state your source! how do you know?
- i saw it on tv.
- miss rachel, cats is faster than dogs.
- state your source! how do you know?
- i saw a dog chasing a cat, but him didn't catch her.
and then today...
- hey kids, we're having salad for snack today.
- stegasorus, miss rachel, how do you know!?!?!
Monday, October 30, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
spookity spook
- will there be spooks in your haunted house-made-of-blocks, Prematurely-Old Clarence?
- oh yes...what's 'spooks'?
- spooks are things that are scary.
- oh, yes then. all manner of spooks.
the pne fright night also contained all manner of spooks. my throat is still hoarse, my adrenaline pumping. we only made three of the four haunted houses, which i think may be all my frayed nerves could handle. spooks jumping out from every corner, spooks at eye-level, spooks grabbing ankles. spooks colored to match the decor, so you don't see them til they fling themselves at you. spooks that follow you a while after spooking you, so they can spook you again from behind a few feet later. spooks named robyn and joel, who spook me for no good reason, and drag me into these spook-houses.
i hear it's even better if you can bring someone along who is genuinely frightened by these things. i wouldn't know, i was too busy panicking and clutching at my chest to note whether robyn and joel were having a better time with me than they would have without me. i had a myriad of childhood fears (the munchkins from the wizard of oz lived under my bed, there was an alligator at the foot who would nibble my toes if i didn't tuck the blankets under them just so, i had tigers in my corners, and lived in mortal fear that an army of roman centurions would march through my wall [no joke. not an army led by a centurion, but an entire fleet of the broom-headed fellows]) that have not translated over well into adulthood. i'm pants-pissing terrified of spiders, the dark, and chain-weilding maniacs, all of which fright night had in abundance.
these houses are not lame. even if you are a ruggedly handsome, volleyball-playing man, or a tough, parametic-type girl who can insert IV's, you will flinch when fog horns blast you and bodies materialize from walls. if you are a shrieking, pansy girl like me, a hobgoblin lurching straight at your face will leave you on the floor in a quivering ball of nerves (true story).
ryan, sadly, was unable to join us for more than one house. i understand his predicament. everyone draws their spook-line somewhere. myself, i cannot handle death and dismemberment (except for the rather jovial fellow who ended just below the nipples. 'maybe you'll find the rest of me on one of the rides!!' he cried, before hamming it up for a picture). twenty minutes of the 'texas chainsaw massacre' remake had me feeling sufficiently defiled as to necessitate a shower. spook-houses, on the slightly other hand...i wanted to turn back the whole time, every time, but i came out feeling more exhilarated than polluted.
do i have any advice for future fright nighters? go right at six, when it opens, and hit up the houses early. the lines get to be up to an hour long, and we waited in one for nearly half an hour before we found out that the house was closed. another half hour of my life that i'll never get back is the time we spent wandering that wretched maze. DON'T GO IN THE MAZE, PEOPLE!!! IT'S NOT FUN AND QUICK LIKE IT IS ON PAPER!!! THEY WON'T LET YOU CHEAT!!! we found ourselves back at the entrance after twenty minutes of wandering. 'the exits are thataway, folks' said the homely, obnoxious maze-entrance-girl, gesturing back inwards. 'can't come out thisaway, gotta go find them. it's a maze, people.' fine. dandy. and they said there'd be spooks, but there were only two, and they just sort of stood there and hissed 'get out' at you, quasi-menacingly. we are trying, spooks. we don't want to be here any more than you apparently do. so don't go in the maze. the line is short for a reason.
oh, and buy the mini donuts. and a hot chocolate, because it's -2 degrees out there. and wear three pairs of socks. and bring a tall, warm man with you. but maybe one that wont push you into dark rooms, saying 'go get 'em, raych,' while you clutch at his arm and weep in terror.
- oh yes...what's 'spooks'?
- spooks are things that are scary.
- oh, yes then. all manner of spooks.
the pne fright night also contained all manner of spooks. my throat is still hoarse, my adrenaline pumping. we only made three of the four haunted houses, which i think may be all my frayed nerves could handle. spooks jumping out from every corner, spooks at eye-level, spooks grabbing ankles. spooks colored to match the decor, so you don't see them til they fling themselves at you. spooks that follow you a while after spooking you, so they can spook you again from behind a few feet later. spooks named robyn and joel, who spook me for no good reason, and drag me into these spook-houses.
i hear it's even better if you can bring someone along who is genuinely frightened by these things. i wouldn't know, i was too busy panicking and clutching at my chest to note whether robyn and joel were having a better time with me than they would have without me. i had a myriad of childhood fears (the munchkins from the wizard of oz lived under my bed, there was an alligator at the foot who would nibble my toes if i didn't tuck the blankets under them just so, i had tigers in my corners, and lived in mortal fear that an army of roman centurions would march through my wall [no joke. not an army led by a centurion, but an entire fleet of the broom-headed fellows]) that have not translated over well into adulthood. i'm pants-pissing terrified of spiders, the dark, and chain-weilding maniacs, all of which fright night had in abundance.
these houses are not lame. even if you are a ruggedly handsome, volleyball-playing man, or a tough, parametic-type girl who can insert IV's, you will flinch when fog horns blast you and bodies materialize from walls. if you are a shrieking, pansy girl like me, a hobgoblin lurching straight at your face will leave you on the floor in a quivering ball of nerves (true story).
ryan, sadly, was unable to join us for more than one house. i understand his predicament. everyone draws their spook-line somewhere. myself, i cannot handle death and dismemberment (except for the rather jovial fellow who ended just below the nipples. 'maybe you'll find the rest of me on one of the rides!!' he cried, before hamming it up for a picture). twenty minutes of the 'texas chainsaw massacre' remake had me feeling sufficiently defiled as to necessitate a shower. spook-houses, on the slightly other hand...i wanted to turn back the whole time, every time, but i came out feeling more exhilarated than polluted.
do i have any advice for future fright nighters? go right at six, when it opens, and hit up the houses early. the lines get to be up to an hour long, and we waited in one for nearly half an hour before we found out that the house was closed. another half hour of my life that i'll never get back is the time we spent wandering that wretched maze. DON'T GO IN THE MAZE, PEOPLE!!! IT'S NOT FUN AND QUICK LIKE IT IS ON PAPER!!! THEY WON'T LET YOU CHEAT!!! we found ourselves back at the entrance after twenty minutes of wandering. 'the exits are thataway, folks' said the homely, obnoxious maze-entrance-girl, gesturing back inwards. 'can't come out thisaway, gotta go find them. it's a maze, people.' fine. dandy. and they said there'd be spooks, but there were only two, and they just sort of stood there and hissed 'get out' at you, quasi-menacingly. we are trying, spooks. we don't want to be here any more than you apparently do. so don't go in the maze. the line is short for a reason.
oh, and buy the mini donuts. and a hot chocolate, because it's -2 degrees out there. and wear three pairs of socks. and bring a tall, warm man with you. but maybe one that wont push you into dark rooms, saying 'go get 'em, raych,' while you clutch at his arm and weep in terror.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
everything i need to know...
- miss rachel, didja know dat a dracula izza vampire?
- you don't say, Girl Clarence! and what, prey tell, is a vampire?
- it's a something dat laughs real scary!!!
- you don't say, Girl Clarence! and what, prey tell, is a vampire?
- it's a something dat laughs real scary!!!
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
oh, the tangled webs we weave...
- raych, i forgot what the guy at table 73 ordered! the girl was having a bbq chicken wrap.
- k, hold on....(wanders over to table 73)...hey guys, so we're having a little printer trouble back in the kitchen. the ink is running low, and all we can make out on the bill is 'bbq chicken wrap' and 'something burger.'
- yeah, i had the mushroom burger.
- thanks so much. sorry, guys...(wanders back to the service aisle, where slightly but by no means abnormally negligent server waits anxiously)...it was a mushroom burger.
- k, hold on....(wanders over to table 73)...hey guys, so we're having a little printer trouble back in the kitchen. the ink is running low, and all we can make out on the bill is 'bbq chicken wrap' and 'something burger.'
- yeah, i had the mushroom burger.
- thanks so much. sorry, guys...(wanders back to the service aisle, where slightly but by no means abnormally negligent server waits anxiously)...it was a mushroom burger.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
because he doesn't drink coffee...
'if i'm falling asleep while i'm driving, i just start screaming, because i figure you can't be screaming and sleeping at the same time.'
the logic is infallible.
the logic is infallible.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
hold on...
dan finnerty was just your average guy, until he got in touch with his feminine side. one drunken kareoke night, he got up to sing helen reddy's 'i am a woman,' and a star was born. before long, he'd found two dudes with nondescript suits, dowdy glasses, and impeccable vocals to stand behind him and do bad choreography. ladies and gentlemen, if you have 4 minutes and 36 seconds at your disposal, and can stand a bit of profanity, i would like to present to you...
The Dan Band
The Dan Band
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
serve-o-rama
i promise not to let this blog deteriorate into a forum for my bitching-about-serving, because i am doing other things with my life (like bringing a pumpkin to daycare so that we could dismember it, and see what was inside. we're going to the pumpkin patch on friday, and i feel it's best to be educated), and because i know, i know that when i go into a bluenotes or an hmv that i do all kinds of things to piss the salespeople off, because i really don't notice that i've picked through an entire pile looking for a small, and then folded them all back up wrong, because i've never worked in retail. i know. however, there are SOME things that i need to say, people. and they are as follows:
take note of when the restaurant closes. when your server comes around saying, 'just so you guys know, the kitchen closes in two minutes, so if you want dessert or anything, now's the time to order it' she's really saying 'we close in ten minutes. please get the hell out.'
it's ok to be particular. it's not ok to be ridiculous. don't want mayo on your burger? that's ok. want your fries extra crispy, or your salad extra-dressingy? that's ok. want a chicken caesar wrap, only instead of the grilled chicken, you want clucks tossed in buzz sauce, and instead of the parmesan cheese, you want cheddar, and instead of the caesar, you want ranch dressing, and if we could toss in a couple of tortilla strips, that'd be great? that is most definitely ok, because that is delicious, and if you ordered it i might ask you for a bite. however, if you want a pepsi with two ice cubes, or your fries cooked for twelve minutes, or half a hamburger (all true stories) then you are an idiot, and should not be breeding.
don't tell me my tip's on the table when it's not. why would you lie to me like that?
today had it's ups and downs. there are certain things a server hates to do, like forget to ring in an order, and then have to lie to the table about why it's taking so long (check), walk away from a table and realize that she wasn't actually listening when the guy told her what he wanted, and have to go back to the table and ask (check), spill coffee in a guy's lap (check), and break a glass (...managed to dodge that one). however, i am surrounded by glorious food, and sometimes we get to eat things for free, like a bbq chicken wrap that got rung in by accident, and a slice of birthday cake from kevin's party of 35 that i bartered for a jug of water, and 1/4 of a beef quesadilla that trevor pimped out for me. so on the whole, i figure i came out about even.
take note of when the restaurant closes. when your server comes around saying, 'just so you guys know, the kitchen closes in two minutes, so if you want dessert or anything, now's the time to order it' she's really saying 'we close in ten minutes. please get the hell out.'
it's ok to be particular. it's not ok to be ridiculous. don't want mayo on your burger? that's ok. want your fries extra crispy, or your salad extra-dressingy? that's ok. want a chicken caesar wrap, only instead of the grilled chicken, you want clucks tossed in buzz sauce, and instead of the parmesan cheese, you want cheddar, and instead of the caesar, you want ranch dressing, and if we could toss in a couple of tortilla strips, that'd be great? that is most definitely ok, because that is delicious, and if you ordered it i might ask you for a bite. however, if you want a pepsi with two ice cubes, or your fries cooked for twelve minutes, or half a hamburger (all true stories) then you are an idiot, and should not be breeding.
don't tell me my tip's on the table when it's not. why would you lie to me like that?
today had it's ups and downs. there are certain things a server hates to do, like forget to ring in an order, and then have to lie to the table about why it's taking so long (check), walk away from a table and realize that she wasn't actually listening when the guy told her what he wanted, and have to go back to the table and ask (check), spill coffee in a guy's lap (check), and break a glass (...managed to dodge that one). however, i am surrounded by glorious food, and sometimes we get to eat things for free, like a bbq chicken wrap that got rung in by accident, and a slice of birthday cake from kevin's party of 35 that i bartered for a jug of water, and 1/4 of a beef quesadilla that trevor pimped out for me. so on the whole, i figure i came out about even.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Sunday, October 15, 2006
nerdly lucre
i deserve coke-bottle glasses and braces, pants that ride too high, and those t-shirts with the native-american-motif wolf, because i am rampagingly, unashamedly geeky.
i like to dissect words into their latin and greek parts. i like to excavate their origins, and it is to this end that i read books like 'mother tongue: english and how it got that way' and regularly visit sites like 'common errors in english' and 'take our word for it.'
for the most part, my dork complex only pays off when playing balderdash, but finally, FINALLY, i have received some sort of financial recompense for my attention to bad grammar and devotion to geekspeek sites.
thank you, thailand zoo, for neglecting the editing process, and making my $10 possible.
i like to dissect words into their latin and greek parts. i like to excavate their origins, and it is to this end that i read books like 'mother tongue: english and how it got that way' and regularly visit sites like 'common errors in english' and 'take our word for it.'
for the most part, my dork complex only pays off when playing balderdash, but finally, FINALLY, i have received some sort of financial recompense for my attention to bad grammar and devotion to geekspeek sites.
thank you, thailand zoo, for neglecting the editing process, and making my $10 possible.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
blognerdia, increase!!
not only can i now link to things from my blog (which jane taught me) and post videos on my blog (which jer taught me), but i have finally discovered a way to check all my favorite blogs at once, without having to view the same, un-updated drudgery day in and day out. it's called bloglines, folks, and here is where you can get your very own. just lay down your favorite sites, and bloglines will check them every number-of-minutes-as-yet-undetermined-because-i-don't-much-care. now, instead of scrolling through blogs, i just check just the one page to see what (if anything) is new. it's saved me a minute and thirty-eight seconds (i timed it) of my life, which might not seem like much, but that's eleven minutes and forty-three seconds a week, forty-nine minutes a month, and almost ten hours a year.
thanks, bloglines. you may send me my cheque now.
thanks, bloglines. you may send me my cheque now.
Monday, October 09, 2006
thanksgiving day is many things...
...but there are many things it is not.
it is not a day to go out for dinner and sit in my section and be rude to me and ask where your food is FOUR MINUTES AFTER IT HAS BEEN ORDERED because you've already been waiting twenty minutes in the lobby because the restaurant is packed and where the hell are your families, people!?!?
it is not a day to order a lime margarita when you wanted a lemon water, and then to look at me like i'm an idiot when i bring you the margarita, because even though, when i said 'ok, so one lime margarita, one glass of water with lemon, and one bottle of canadian?' you said yes, what you meant was 'no, don't make that margarita, because that will be a waste of two ounces of vodka and a minute and a half of your time.'
it is not a day to not show up for work and to leave us down two servers.
it is not a day to bring your squalling babies out in public.
it is not a day to complain about the three squalling babies, like i can do something about it.
most of all, it is a day of thanks, and of giving...particularly of giving the $9.93 you owe me for ordering and consuming onion rings. it is not a day to pull a soulless manouver we in the business call a D&D (dine and dash, for the uninitiate).
three things i'm thankful for, jane?
1. i'm thankful that i didn't work on saturday.
2. i'm thankful that i didn't work on sunday.
3. i'm thankful that i didn't work for most of today.
it is not a day to go out for dinner and sit in my section and be rude to me and ask where your food is FOUR MINUTES AFTER IT HAS BEEN ORDERED because you've already been waiting twenty minutes in the lobby because the restaurant is packed and where the hell are your families, people!?!?
it is not a day to order a lime margarita when you wanted a lemon water, and then to look at me like i'm an idiot when i bring you the margarita, because even though, when i said 'ok, so one lime margarita, one glass of water with lemon, and one bottle of canadian?' you said yes, what you meant was 'no, don't make that margarita, because that will be a waste of two ounces of vodka and a minute and a half of your time.'
it is not a day to not show up for work and to leave us down two servers.
it is not a day to bring your squalling babies out in public.
it is not a day to complain about the three squalling babies, like i can do something about it.
most of all, it is a day of thanks, and of giving...particularly of giving the $9.93 you owe me for ordering and consuming onion rings. it is not a day to pull a soulless manouver we in the business call a D&D (dine and dash, for the uninitiate).
three things i'm thankful for, jane?
1. i'm thankful that i didn't work on saturday.
2. i'm thankful that i didn't work on sunday.
3. i'm thankful that i didn't work for most of today.
Monday, October 02, 2006
this smidgen of blog cost me eight minutes sleep
it's 10:40 and i'm home at a reasonable hour, and while i would love to post about my weekend and the various adventures of the clarences and so forth, i have been working for twenty of the past twenty-nine hours (for those of you not in the know, i am now working three jobs. i have picked up a part-time position working as an aide for a little boy who is currently in the process of being diagnosed with autism, so i do that from eight-thirty to twelve-thirty, hang with the clarences from one to four, and then, on days like today, party at the dirty bird from five to whenever i get off). i think i will take advantage of this rare opportunity and get eight hours sleep (after i rinse the plum sauce out of my pores).
red robin quote of the day:
innocent customer - 'do you guys have a wireless connection in here?'
the chad - 'if we did, it'd be battered and deep-fried.'
red robin quote of the day:
innocent customer - 'do you guys have a wireless connection in here?'
the chad - 'if we did, it'd be battered and deep-fried.'
Thursday, September 28, 2006
in which we meet the clarences
ok, so i've been reading this blog by this woman i don't know (and there's nothing lame about peeping into other people's lives this way, particularly if they're really funny, like she is) who got fired from her job for posting horrendous and inappropriate things on her blog about her co-workers and/or bosses. apparently, that happens. there are few things i can blog about these days besides work, since my last seventy-two hours have looked thusly: daycare-red robin-sleep-daycare-red robin-sleep-daycare. now, i just hope and pray and more or less assume that no one from reds will ever get a hold of this website, but if they do, odds are that they feel the same way about paul as i do (complete and utter re-avowel of paul's SMS, because yesterday i heard kevin make a perfectly reasonable request, which paul denied out of hand. kevin made the error of trying to explain his reasoning, which got paul's back up, and apparently i'm not the only one to force a battle of wills) and hopefully won't tell him.
anyway, the major struggle for me (since i really won't cry if reds fires me) is with daycare. there are all kinds of privacy issues surrounding child care, but i have stories, people. so i'm wondering, maybe, if i don't call them So-and-so P. Surname, but refer to them simply as Clarence, can i steer myself clear of dangerous waters? there's Angry Clarence, who regularly kicks me, and throws rocks and spits, and Fragile Clarence, who goes to pieces every time he's tagged playing Pirates and Sharks (even though it is equally as fun to be a pirate as it is to be a shark, and that, friends, is the reason we have played p&s EVERY DAY FOR THE LAST SIX DAYS), and then there's Thug Clarence and Dude Clarence (who is a dead ringer for one joshua rostek, aka 'dude') and May Be Slightly Retarded (MBSR) Clarence, and poor little Girl Clarence with no other girl clarences to play with. most of their appellations will be negative, i'm sorry, but all of their positive traits are universal (they're all heart-rendingly cute and prone to cuddles and they're total prodigies. they've perfected the exasperated teenaged eye-roll, and the indignant, self-righteous 'whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?' when you firstnamelastname them for having teenage-eye-rolled you. you tell me that's not advanced behavior!) and they can only be distinguished by their...let's call them character deficiencies. but even though most of my stories will be about the time Dude Clarence bit Sulky Clarence hard enough to draw blood, or about how Silly Clarence can turn any word into a 'bathroom' word, and i will sometimes admit that i hate them, know that i also love them, much in the same way that they both love and hate me. love me because i can name any bone that they can feel through their skin and because i'm really good at foosball (relatively speaking) and because i invented Pirates and Sharks; hate me because, for what seems to be the first time in their lives, someone is calling down fire and brimstone for such minor misdemeanors as Giving Sass and Unprovoked Smacking of Friends, and my threats are by no means idle. i will actually plan fun activities so that you have something to miss out on, kids.
let the love fest begin.
anyway, the major struggle for me (since i really won't cry if reds fires me) is with daycare. there are all kinds of privacy issues surrounding child care, but i have stories, people. so i'm wondering, maybe, if i don't call them So-and-so P. Surname, but refer to them simply as Clarence, can i steer myself clear of dangerous waters? there's Angry Clarence, who regularly kicks me, and throws rocks and spits, and Fragile Clarence, who goes to pieces every time he's tagged playing Pirates and Sharks (even though it is equally as fun to be a pirate as it is to be a shark, and that, friends, is the reason we have played p&s EVERY DAY FOR THE LAST SIX DAYS), and then there's Thug Clarence and Dude Clarence (who is a dead ringer for one joshua rostek, aka 'dude') and May Be Slightly Retarded (MBSR) Clarence, and poor little Girl Clarence with no other girl clarences to play with. most of their appellations will be negative, i'm sorry, but all of their positive traits are universal (they're all heart-rendingly cute and prone to cuddles and they're total prodigies. they've perfected the exasperated teenaged eye-roll, and the indignant, self-righteous 'whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?' when you firstnamelastname them for having teenage-eye-rolled you. you tell me that's not advanced behavior!) and they can only be distinguished by their...let's call them character deficiencies. but even though most of my stories will be about the time Dude Clarence bit Sulky Clarence hard enough to draw blood, or about how Silly Clarence can turn any word into a 'bathroom' word, and i will sometimes admit that i hate them, know that i also love them, much in the same way that they both love and hate me. love me because i can name any bone that they can feel through their skin and because i'm really good at foosball (relatively speaking) and because i invented Pirates and Sharks; hate me because, for what seems to be the first time in their lives, someone is calling down fire and brimstone for such minor misdemeanors as Giving Sass and Unprovoked Smacking of Friends, and my threats are by no means idle. i will actually plan fun activities so that you have something to miss out on, kids.
let the love fest begin.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
my God is bigger than your HIV
ok, i was just starting a post about how i had my first really good shift at red robin today, and how that balanced out the fact that one of my kids threw rocks at me and kicked me and spit at me today, but this just in:
apilak and supakit (you remember them, right? skinny baby, fat baby, thai, HIV positive?) have both just tested negative for HIV.
THAT'S RIGHT, THEY DON'T HAVE HIV!!! their blood came back clean!!!!!
they're getting re-tested in six weeks just to make sure, but they're clean!!! they're healed!
amen praise God glory halleluiah.
apilak and supakit (you remember them, right? skinny baby, fat baby, thai, HIV positive?) have both just tested negative for HIV.
THAT'S RIGHT, THEY DON'T HAVE HIV!!! their blood came back clean!!!!!
they're getting re-tested in six weeks just to make sure, but they're clean!!! they're healed!
amen praise God glory halleluiah.
Monday, September 25, 2006
this is what we call 'science'
'miss rachel, do you want to see my eyeballs disappear?'
'nope, i'm afraid i don't.'
'but look! i can roll them all the way back so that they're gone!!!'
'sorry bud, that's not really something i want to see.'
'miss rachel, look! i can see my brains!!!'
'nope, i'm afraid i don't.'
'but look! i can roll them all the way back so that they're gone!!!'
'sorry bud, that's not really something i want to see.'
'miss rachel, look! i can see my brains!!!'
Sunday, September 24, 2006
consider the ant, you sluggard
i would like, with the pride of the extraordinary lazy, to brag a bit about how productive and useful i was yesterday. now, i know that there are people out there who get productive and useful things done every day, but i am not one of them. i am disorganized and sleepy. please understand, then, the hurculean effort it took me to clean my room. i cleaned and swiffered my room. inertia in action, i proceeded to swiffer the kitchen and family room, working around koala, who was taking her ease...
i thought she might relocate when i moved the ottoman, but she didn't even flinch. for posterity's sake, here she is earlier today...
i thought she might relocate when i moved the ottoman, but she didn't even flinch. for posterity's sake, here she is earlier today...
and a few hours ago...
that dog is sedentary! anyway, not only did i hang up the clothes in the 'clean' pile, but i did another load of laundry, since i have a nasty habit of eating in bed and dropping loaded bagels, jam side down. and i went for a run, and i had a shower, which i know shouldn't be impressive, but sometimes i take my not-in-thailand freedom-from-showering-thrice-daily a bit too far, so it is. and i emptied and loaded the dishwasher, not because i am awesome, but because the cache of dishes i'd unearthed in my room looked way less incriminating on the rack than on the counter.
and then i went out to mission for beers with friends, which is not useful or productive, but since they comprise almost the entire audience of my blog, i had to throw that in. jer, mike, alan, sometimes ryan...what's up? robbie, we missed you.
i aim for balance in life, so today i slept in late, made brownies with marshmallow icing, and watched three movies and the same episode of 'so you think you can dance' twice. perhaps one of these days i'll usurp koala's spot on the floor between the couch and the ottoman.
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