Facebook chat with my Dad

Jose                                                1:25am
hey hey

Michelle                                         1:25am
hey dad
what do you want for Christmas??

Jose                                               1:25am
go to bed
a happy family :)

Michelle                                        1:26am 
can I find one at target?

"We have given our hearts to machines, and now we are turning into machines"

 This article will make you feel like a social casualty of the digital age. Curse you Facebook.

I'm Probably a Bear

 I know this because I've accidentally gotten pepper in my eye at least three times this month. I feel your pain creepers and bears.

This is not a test

I finally watched Fight Club, I'll admit it kind of blew my mind. What a perfect placement of "Where is My Mind?" by the Pixies. I'd heard it was at the end, but I assumed it came during the credits not at the most stunning and devastating moment in the film.

I don't believe in time

This is how I feel about time. And so should you.

"Now whether there is more than one time appointed for men to rise it mattereth not; for all do not die at once, and this mattereth not; all is as one day with God, and time only is measured unto men."
 --Alma 40:8

      "The time would not pass. Somebody was playing with the clocks, and not only with the electric clocks, but the wind-up kind too. The second hand on my watch would twitch once, and a year would pass, and then it would twitch again."

     "There was nothing I could do about it. As an Earthling, I had to believe what clocks said---and calendars."
--Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five

R u o.k. ?

I think your success as a person should be inversely proportional to how many times a complete stranger has come up to you with complete sincerity and asked the question "Are you okay?". Most hurried, self focused Americans (including myself) would trouble to ask this only if a person were teetering on the edge of the Empire state building or bleeding profusely, but even then you would need some hungry orphans at your side to get any sympathy.  Somehow ambling around in my  middle class garb and vehicle, with a blank "I'm day dreaming" expression on my face regularly garners pity from bypassers. Admittedly, the first time this happened, I may actually have appeared a bit pathetic. My freshman year of college I was awakened from my after class bathroom couch nap by the "Are you okay?" question. True, most 20 something janitoresses would've been concerned to find a comatose freshman whilst on their nightly rounds, but really? Who hasn't taken a 3 hour nap in a public place? In a more recent instance I was literally just walking through the mall a few weeks ago when a woman I'd never met stopped me and asked "Are you okay?". When I nodded confusedly she kept on walking. Maybe I'm just lucky enough to live in a world of kind souls and good samaritans or maybe I'm the only one oblivious to just how pitiful I look.

Rainbow Everywhere

My awesome brother showed me the latest Bravery video for their single "Slow Poison". The visuals are beautiful and seem retro sci-fi, and they also mimic some collage prints by a visual artist I spotted last week. If it wasn't obvious, I love rainbow.

 http://www.etsy.com/shop/brandistrickland

Books

For some reason, I feel like re-reading all the books I've ever read. Almost finished with Catcher in the Rye, and I remember now why I love it. There's something comforting about old favorites.

And you thought the shoe couldn't look any better

My favorite part of attending THE Ohio State University, isn't being represented by a poisonous nut, nor is it the tradition of jumping into a dirty lake before the Michigan game, our bow tie wearing president, or even our sweet new library (though it is amazing), it's the unexpectedly modern arty pink tunnel adjoining the RPAC (Recreational place and crap), to the athletic offices. It blows my mind everytime I walk through or past it. Somebody said it was supposed to be red, but I think it is decidedly pink and thereby infinitely more delightful. Walking past it, makes me feel like I'm in the future and walking through it throws me into a state of wonderment at just how beautiful everything looks through the rose colored glass.

Yes it are.

Shazzam!

Sometimes situations arise where I am forced to call upon my problem solving skills. Some of which skills include having a panic attack, calling my parents, crying or my favorite; magic. Despite my muggle parentage from time to time I I love to use magic to solve my problems like tonight, I walked to my car and noticed the brake lights were still on. For a second I contemplated whether my car might be a decepticon, but instead of transforming it refused to start. After having a panic attack, calling my parents, and crying, I called Triple A and talked to four different people before someone said they'd come out and jump my car in just 55 minutes. I sat in my car for about 5 minutes before I finally decided to forget the silly muggles and use magic to start my car. I turned the key and shazzam! It started. I just love magic.

Good Idea Bad Idea

It's a good idea to steal a segment from Animaniacs to use on your blog.
Good Idea: Cucumber Lime Water (Surprisingly good)
Bad Idea: Spending all your laundry money on Ding-Dongs. (If I spritz my clothes in cucumber lime water can I wear them for another week?)

Gandhi lives on my block

I'm not sure what's going on with my upstairs neighbors, but this morning I awoke at the crack of 11 to what sounded like a pro-wrestling smack down over head. It literally sounded like someone was repeatedly slamming sandbags on the floor. I guess this shouldn't surprise me as every now it then it seems they get a hold of a jack hammer and go wild on the kitchen floor. I've also noticed some of my other interesting neighbors lately. Just across the street from me lives a charming little old man, who I think is from India and reminds me of Gandhi from the way he sits outside in his white sari and seems to be meditating. Another curious neighbor is a bearded 80s devotee in running gear who wears giant shield sunglasses with a fluorescent bungee cord and embarks on his nightly run every night at approximately 7:10 pm. I just think that's awesome.

Not what you want to find in your refrigerator

This neatly clipped newspaper article was somewhat unsettling to find sitting in my refridgerator next to the milk; firstly since neither my sister nor I receive the newspaper, and secondly because of the article's subject. At first I thought the previous tenant may have used the article for inspiration and was possibly now living under the baseboards,  and then I remembered a certain Argentine friend with a penchant for aviation and crime fighting who recently refrigerated a bag of produce at my house. Now I don't need to tear up the baseboards, but if the cops come looking I'll tip them to check Amsterdam.

Sometimes I doodle

Just in case you were worried I didn't use my spare time well.

Overheard and Transcribed

Another gem from cubicle kingdom. Oy.

For some reason Columbus State comes out with a new motto every six months. From time to time I enroll in a $300 class, and every time I do their motto has changed. Strangely enough, the motto can also always be followed by the phrase "At McDonalds".  At one point it was "Where Smart People, make smart choices", followed later by "Education that works", today I saw this sticker on a trashcan and I'm pretty sure it's their latest motto. I'm hoping intently that they replace their cougar mascot with Biggie Smalls.

Jaffa!

Sometimes I make impulse purchases, like the one I made yesterday of an soap flavored candy bar from Scotland. I made the mistake of thinking it would taste like one of those delicious Christmas chocolate oranges but instead bit into a piece of chocolate covered orange soap. I guess they need some way to wash out the taste of haggis. Yeck.

Sometimes Fortune Cookies Mock You

Liquefy!

I finally decided to buy a blender. I had an intense desire to attempt to make black bean burgers last night which call for one. In recent weeks I kept thinking of many reasons why I needed a blender (and suddenly I can't recall any). I grabbed the cheapest one at Walgreens and it seems to work alright. But the best part about it is that not only does it have 10 speeds, but rather than numbers each speed has an enthusiastic verb like "chop" "pulse" and my favorite "liquefy!". Some of these verbs seem to be nearly the same thing and some I wonder if a blender is really capable of achieving. I gave "chop" a go for some onions and peppers, but all it did was "liquefy" the bottom vegetables. My frustration lead me to try pressing every button, and in the end result was thoroughly liquified. It looks quite a bit like Calvin's toad stroganoff, but the burgers weren't bad.

Postcards from the Past

Came across a stack of these at an antique shop last week. They had some that were both blank and written on, but I loved reading all the messages, and this one made me laugh. This is from 1925 and my mom found one from 1909!

1985 Called...; Polaroids ≠ Discretion

It would seem using a polaroid camera is akin to birthing an alien baby. On vacation last week, while making instamatic memories, passersby looked slack- jawed and almost horrified at the sight of the blocky thing. One elderly woman even whipped around and exclaimed "I didn't know they still made those things!" I guess that's why they no longer do..., but I'm glad I braved the gawking and took these pictures which I can now look at and pretend I visited via time travel. Another blast from the past post soon to come.

Bowl Cut

Last night I became aware of the ubiquity of the bowl cut. While watching the Yeah Yeah Yeah's play not only did I realize that Amy Tan and Karen O both have the same haircut but so did Karen's doppleganger opener from Grand Ole Party. I wonder if all of them realize they share the same haircut with Saleisha, winner of cycle 9 ANTM. But the similarities don't stop there Amy Tan not only has Karen O's haircut but she's also a member of a band where she does crazy theatrics on stage (which happpens to include other famous writers like Stephen King and Mitch Albom). It just might be that the path to success begins with a bowl cut.

Best Job Ever; Corporate Window Washer

For the last few days I've been watching a crew of five guys in harnesses rappelling off the 5th floor of my office to wash the windows, and it seems like the best job ever. It kind of looks like this, only with buckets and squeegies.

The Unbearable Lateness of Being

Today by some phenomenon of nature I woke up early and was completely alert. I blame the sun for shining in my eyes the three hours prior, but even then my post-adolescent sleep rhythms can usually sleep through blazing daylight. This truly is a sign of the apocalypse as I usually fumble through my "mornings" in a squinty-eyed stupor. As I was already awake I had no choice but to be on time to school. As I walked to class to my surprise there were tons of students out! Imagine! Because of my chronic tardiness I will usually spot just a few meandering library goers and fellow slackers, and it sometimes seems I am the only attendee at this huge university. I was highly surprised to witness some of the rumored 50,000 students trekking to class. Even stranger was how everyone seemed to know each other. What had always seemed like a vast sea of lonely commuters, was more like one giant fraternity. I saw at least one hug (in the middle of the cross walk, no less), multiple shout outs to friends, and a possible high five all on my 10 minute walk. Another adventure in punctuality occurred a few weeks earlier when my sister and I went to a movie thinking it started at an earlier time. We loitered in the theatre for about half an hour where I spotted the Golden Girls (three old ladies) linking arms to steady themselves leaving the theatre. Though kind of a sad sight it warmed my heart to know someday when I'm old and off balance I too can go to a 3:00 Disney matinee with the gals. Yet another gem of voyeurism, I mean punctuality. Apart from attendance points and a slow stroll to class, I never knew what lateness had me missing!

Somebody Choked on a Slider...

Yesterday on my way home from work I saw an ambulance with lights flashing in the White Castle parking lot. The paramedics just casually strolled through the backdoor. Maybe they were just stopping in for some sliders, but more likely cardiac arrest/food poisoning are so frequent there that 911 calls are now fairly routine. HQ in Columbus, Ohio resembling a ghetto middle school more than a castle.

Sometimes my morals infiltrate my dreams and sometimes not. The other night I dreamed Jim Halpert was putting the moves on me and I was appalled, and I reminded him he was engaged to Pam. But in another dream, I was smoking a cigarette. I guess a dream is more like a play enacted by your mind showing you whatever it wants, and is not controlled by your decisions. This is with the exception of lucid dreams, which are great because then you literally can live the dream without the boundaries of reality, which is usually better than t.v.

Do all ho-ho's taste like chemicals or is someone trying to take me out?

Mmm Haterade

Here comes the most ironic post yet; a post hating on haters. I understand that the Internet has created an international forum where the masses can state any opinion they want whether or not anyone cares to hear it. Often it's all complaints and pointless criticism. I read one blog that criticized every celebrity imaginable for such crimes of fashion such as being too colorful, too bland, too trendy, too boring or just too unusual. What kind of a society rails individuals for individuality? Or artists for creativity? Why are they being corrected? It seems that criticism is a mode of pushing people to conform to your set of beliefs. I think most people would agree this kind of thinking can be catastrophic, this kind of thinking creates "otherness" and has been known to destroy civilizations. How is it helpful to spew hatred at each other in hopes that we will all come out the same? Is that really the goal? It seems everyone with computer is jumping on the band wagon of hateful blogging. Most do it to be funny and convincing, and yet don't promote positive ideas, they only defame others. I'm not sure if it's meant to be cathartic or if people really view the world this way, in any case it just seems like an excuse to hate.

Don't Waste Your Breath

Strange, because breath seems to be the only thing you can't waste. Cliches really get me sometimes.

Rainy Railroad

This morning the wet railroad tracks sounded like an Orchestra. The distant train screeching down the tracks was surprisingly melodic. Radiohead's Ok Computer album cover came to mind. It could be a rainy railroad right? And the music fits the rainy mood .

"...Russian boys are what girls are to the Japanese..."

Wha ? There seems to be a particular cluster of cubicles prone to speculating on race relations at work. I overheard this snippet today, and I'm still puzzling over how it could possibly be correct. I'm fairly certain the speaker was confusing Japan with China, but I have no idea where he would have gotten that Russia bit. Granted I missed the rest of the conversation, but just to give you an idea of this groups' sound logic, last week's quote of the day was an earnest, "I'm sure there are some smart Irish people...".

Why...

It's true, mcmuffin might sound much like mcgriddle through the grainy drive-thru intercom but it tastes quite different...oyy...See earlier post.

I love this image.

Nerd Alert

Exchanged Sweater---->For 2 bags of Jellybeans--->Feelin GREAT

I usually blog about trivial things like shoes, skittles and the vending machine. So I've spent all morning on CNN, BBC and the Dispatch's website thinking I might find something more pertinent to get incensed about, but did not. Bad economy, bad people doing bad things. Now I remember why I read People instead of Time.

Do Not Taste the Brown Rainbow, If You Can Help It

The Mars Corporation has managed to ruin chocolate. Chocolate has long been one of those foods that is impossible to screw up, like pizza or a hamburger. No matter what you put in it, or how wrong your methods these foods cannot be ruined. (Although in the cafeteria today I spotted chocolate "Everything" bars, that had cheerios stuck in them. Ruined). Somethings should not be united. You can't take two independently good foods and combine them in to one super food. IE: Pizza+Cheeseburger=Great Pizza, Cheeseburger+Chocolate=Type II Diabetes. Chocolate skittles are possibly the worst candy idea ever. The cursed vending machine was cleaned out today, leaving Chocolate Skittles or Mounds bars as the best options. Both of which incur the gag reflex. (I could have gotten trail mix but let's be honest...yeah right). They're not even real chocolate. Each skittle is a weird faux chocolate flavor like "Brownie Batter" or "Chocolate Pudding". I'm outraged by this perversion of chocolate! It seems nobody else likes the Choc skittles either, since the bag I am currently eating is rock hard and had probably been there since June. The Skittles slogan doesn't even apply to these ugly step-child skittles. Taste the rainbow? More like taste the monochromatic crap-bow.

I saw this poster in my Modernist Warzone Lit class yesterday. Apparently, the army isn't just about war. They're about cricket and rugby too! Hooray!

Ok I admit it.

I am obsessed with shoes. Prior to this blog, I was totally unaware of this fact. I thought I was a sensible girl with sensible obsessions (ahem: the Olsen Twins). Apparently blogs lead to self-discovery. My most recent discovery was yet again, shoes. I found this awesome version of the classic Chuck Taylor, The Converse All Star Lite. This is good news for the already clown footed, like myself. Another luxurious improvement are these shearling lined chucks. Which will keep you warm and no offense, look waay cooler than Uggs.

It's Hamma Time

Hammer pants are back. Big time. I'm wondering if I (or anyone) can pull them off.

It's hard to make a sleepy face smile.

Almost everyday for the last six months, I've worn purple and green together. But it's cool, so do all my role models.

Fear of Sleep

Ohhh the pain. I finally understand the perils of sleep deprivation. This whole week, my sleep schedule has been all over the place, some nights with 8 hours and some with less than 3 for no good reason (don't pity me). Last night I got a hardy 6 hours and yet this morning I could hardly stand up. I've had a dull ache in my head and a sick feeling in my stomach, which I thought this would wear off after a granola bar, but nay, it is 5:00 pm and I still feel weak and groggy. Part of my aversion to bedtime is partly due to important late night projects like organizing my itunes library and talking on the phone to western friends 'til 4. Also, it's partly because of the gripping paranoia that strikes me right around midnight where I feel that sleep makes me vulnerable and too slow to respond if crises strike. I'm so tired though, disaster can come find me. I'll probably sleep right through it.

Boot News

While reading one french fashionista's blog today I spotted the bottom black slouchy boots from online UK retailer Asos and went to the website and found these brown ones as well. While I can't be french, I will certainly pretend to be. Especially if they wear awesome BOOTS!

Heliocentric

Sometimes I forget the sun exists. I forget that light comes in bright yellow rays and not just diffused in gray. It doesn't bother me. I don't miss it when it's gone, but when it shines I remember how glorious it is. Yesterday and the day before the sun came out and I felt euphoric. Walking into work, I saw the pink and red sunrise coming over the highway overpass. The clouds were like an explosion and there were streaky jet streams all over the sky. In Ohio, it's cloudy almost everyday (190 days of full clouds, and 103 of partial clouds, that's 293 days of clouds.), which is only two days more than Fairbanks, Alaska, and we don't even have the northern lights.

Place: Columbus
State:Ohio
Sunny days:72
Sunny rank:(203)
Partly cloudy days:103
Cloudy days:190
Cloudy rank:(56)

Place:Fairbanks
State:Alaska
Sunny days:70
Sunny rank:(205)
Partly cloudy days:86
Cloudy days:210
Cloudy rank:(23)

http://www.cleveland.com/datacentral/index.ssf/2008/08/sunny_and_cloudy_us_places.html

Un-scarred Story

Finally, I had a harrowing near death experience. So maybe not near death, but certainly closer to it than usual. It happened last week in Lake Tahoe while riding aboard my snow hog, or snowmobile, if you will. Just prior to my snow mishap, the missionaries were over for dinner and we'd all gone around sharing our scar stories to break the ice. This crafty conversation starter was invented by my college roommates as a boy snagging device back in the old days at byu. (Not that anyone was trying to "snag" a missionary, it was just to pass the time. Really). My roomates and I would go around from dorm to dorm telling boys we were collecting scar stories for a "class project" and since few boys can resist telling eager girls their tales of triumph and glory it provided funny banter and even some dates. (Until eventually the boys got wise). Used in other settings, this trick is at least 10xs more fun than "Tell us your name and something interesting about yourself". Which never fails to erase anything remotely interesting from your mind. Elder Whatshisname and that other guy had lots of crazy stories about driving a four wheeler through a barbed wire fence and bungee jumping off a bridge into shark infested waters through rings of fire and such. Thinking frantically of what scar story I might share, I realized that years as an uber cautious wussy with an aversion to contact sports and danger in general, had yielded me few scars. The only story that came to mind was "So this one time I used a men's razor to shave, and wowzer it looked like a wolverine attacked my ankle...close shave, but NOT WORTH IT." Fortunately the elders and my Dad had enough battle wounds to keep the conversation lively and all were spared hearing my Gillette story. But last Tuesday I finally had my very own catastrophe. On our Lake Tahoe mini trip the family decided to forgo ski/board activities and dabble in the sledding/snowmobiling variety. I clutched the metal handles on the back of my seat while my brother drove. With every bump, I flew about a foot in the air not sure if I would land on or off my seat. On the first big bump of the day, my white knuckled hands flailed and hit the metal handle which hurt like the dickens. I ignored the pain and tried to focus on staying on the vehicle. After a couple of very bouncy nerve wracking spins, I got crazy and decided to try driving myself. When I grabbed the gas clutch my brother yelled "Michelle! Your hand!" There was blood all over my hand and all over his jacket. Drama! I think I freaked out the snowshack rental guys when I held up my bloody hand and asked for a band-aid. For a moment I thought maybe I'd lost a fingernail or torn it, turns out it was a tiny gash that just looked much worse than it really was. Although it's a slightly more exciting story than the man razor incident, this does not fulfill my need for a scar story, and maybe that's a good thing.