because I really can't get enough of myself

If we're ever in a submarine together and we see a large mass swimming around us on the sonar, no one is allowed to say, "Well, whatever that was, it's gone now." You know that's exaclty the moment the giant squid leaches onto the sub and starts thrashing. So I lost my phone this morning. I haven't seen it all day. It's really lost, not just the usual, "Where did I set it down?" kind of thing. Except that I think I just heard it ringing. But the noise was coming from inside the couch.  I already checked under the cushions earlier, so now I get to try and squish my hand into the insanely stupid -and deep- crevices that exist for no other reason than to eat our belongings.  Once, our couch ate the sound remote and we couldn't find it for like a year and a half.  And now it wants my phone.  I have the kids feed it cereal and important notes and the left sock out of every good pair we own.  It really shouldn't be hungry. S...

When I was in Kindergarten I had a crush on a boy named Sammy. He had red hair. He lived in a blue house. I never even knew what his last name was. And he moved away after that. I used to love wearing toe socks in high school. But now, I can't fathom the thought. I can barely stand normal socks. And only in the winter. The second I can justify it, I'm going back to flip flops for any and all occasions. My eye has grown a cyst. And there's blister-like bleb that won't go away. And I still can't open it all the way. And now that my stitches are coming loose and about to fall out, I feel like an angry parakeet is practicing latin dance moves over my eyeball. And worst of all, it seems like the surgery isn't working because my glaucoma pressure is going up again. It's sort of depressing, so instead I'm reminiscing. Back when life was easier. Back to the days of Kindergarten and toe socks.

I used to have my own rubber stamp company.  Except that the economy sucks ( newsflash!!! ) and it wasn't worth keeping open.  But I still have a whole closet full of rubber.  It's smelly.  And I could really use that closet. Also, remember when I mentioned these people ?  Their daughter died on February 1st.  She was a month away from turning 4.  They've set up a non-profit organization called Emma's Hugs in her honor.  They use donations to help pay for the little expenses of dealing with a loved one in the hospital (a lot of the times it's the little things that add up the most, and it certainly doesn't help with stress levels.) And I want to help out.  But I can't do it alone. Click here and read about how I'm using that closet full of rubber entice people to help.  (Even if you don't like/use rubber stamps, I'm sure you know someone who does.  And by helping me spread the word you can help honor the memory of a special...

I meant to write this sunday.  But I like to procrastinate and then pretend that it's cool to mention holidays that are already over. I even took pictures of random candy hearts that I was going to arrange into some kind of awesome love message.  But those will have to be posted at random sometime in the future. So onto the mentioning of holidays past... When I was in 1st grade I got a valentine that had "I love you" handwritten on the back.  I kept it.  But not because I felt a tingling in my cold little heart.  I thought that it would come in handy as blackmail. But then when the same boy pushed me down in 4th grade on the one day I wore a dress to school, thereby exposing my panties to the entire class, I found out that I had become too much of a chicken and not nearly creative enough to get him back by using the aforementioned valentine.  Which was really a bummer now that I look back on it. I've never really liked Valentine's Day anyway....

There's something wrong with me.  I couldn't bring myself to get excited at all while Husband watched the olypmic's opening ceremonies.  Shouldn't I be automatically excited, you know, being a part of the world and all? Maybe I'm an alien.  That would explain so much. I wonder if they have olympics on the planet I'm from? But it did get me reminiscing.  Remember when the olympics were held in Salt Lake that one year?  I saw the actual real-live olympic torch that year. I was a super newlyed  in those days and Husband and I lived in this ultra scary apartment in downtown Idaho Falls.  The apartment was actually a hotel built in like 1940 and then converted into apartments in 1970-something. And had never been updated since. The apartment was super cheap - which is why we lived there.  But it was full of some scary people.  Like the guy who liked to yell random phrases at me from his window while I scraped ice off my car in the m...

That's what it is. It's probably an evil scale anyway.  Always lying to me.  Telling me I'm fat. The worst part about it is that the scale has also convinced all the mirrors in my house to play along.  And I know it got my pant size on board ages ago.  It's also managed to get the camera to cooperate, even though I treat that camera like one of my dear precious children.  And this evil, hateful scale has attached a big mound of blubber right on my midsection. Well guess what scale - I hate you too. ***************************************************** I think showers are a waste of time. You get in just to get all wet, emerge dripping, get a nice clean towel wet, redress yourself, figure out something to do with your crazy 'just got wet and now it's going to dry ultra fuzzy, don't even think about using a blowdryer' hair, and put on all the makeup that you just washed off even though your mascara could probably have passed for a whole extra d...

This is going to sound stupid, but no one ever told me that recovering from eye surgery was going to hurt.  I know, what did I expect?  They cut into my eyeball, why didn't I think it would hurt? Stupidity?  Ignorance?  I just didn't want to think about it? But good news - it's starting to feel better.  At least now the stitches have softened and I don't feel like I'm blinking over shards of glass.  But I still feel like hanging out in a dark room, because my eye has been fully dilated for almost a week and with all the blood trapped in my swollen lens it's like looking through a cloudy puddle. Still though - doing much better.  I might even work a little tomorrow. The floating consciousness thing was interesting.  I'm sure you're all dying to find out if I told my dr that he has an ugly mustache (or that I think he has Aspergers.)  Right?  Dying? Starting from the beginning-ish: as soon as the guy with the drugs showed up at m...