This narrows me down to 1.5% of the population, I bet.

Things I Like That Most People Don't:

-Watching college fastpitch on TV. How do I watch TV if I don't have channels? The gym! It's perfect. The elliptical, UW TV, and the nation's champions. I enjoy fastpitch more than baseball, in fact, because it's faster and the girls cheer. Cheer! Like, cheers that rhyme!

-Doing dishes. It's soothing, and my hands are always dry anyway, so it doesn't have any negative side effects. Clean forks, relaxing minutes, and, when no one else is around, NPR on the radio. When I'm old and rich, I will get a kitchen with two giant sinks. (Dangit. Now the boyfriend knows I don't wash his dishes to be nice.)

-Eating plain, non-fat yogurt. To be fair, I prefer yogurt with flavors, but just examine the ingredients. The cheap, plan stuff has, like, three ingredients, while the others have a billion, several of which I can't pronounce. Unacceptable. Give me the basic, and I'll add my own flair... and by "flair", I mean blueberries and nothing else, because I am in a breakfast rut.

That's all I can think of. My tastes aren't unique. If I made a Stuff I Like That Most People Also Like, it'd be even longer than a detailed list of how many times Abe Lincoln tries to get my attention when I am busy. "Woweewow!" you say. I know. So this is it. Softball, dishes, and yogurt. I'm a teensy bit unique.

Get back in my life, speakers.

I didn't appreciate computer speakers while I had them.

In the olden days, I could put on a Nicki Minaj playlist and dance while cleaning my room.

In the olden days, I could snuggle up with the boyfriend and watch a documentary about the beer industry on streaming Netflix.

In the olden days, I could enjoy "Single Ladies" Youtube videos without getting flat hair from headphones.

My life is a lot harder now.

First World Problems

What a dingbatty day. I'll explain using the math symbols "+" and"-" to indicate swell things and stupid things, respectively.

+I ate a third of a burrito for breakfast because that's the only food I had left in the fridge.

-I get to the office and realize I forgot to bring the papers I graded at home... the same papers I skipped the Trailer Park Boys sequel for!

+We hear good news about our school's contract, but it's even more boring than the other two things above, so I won't tell you.

Keep reading. It gets goofballo. Do you think I'd blog about 3/11/10 if the events were all on the scale of the above events? If so, YOU're goofballo.

-When I walked in the door at home, I smelled a terrible odor. Solomon the Gentlest Dog in the World had pooed a horrible poo in my bedroom.

-Since the poo had tainted one of my bed sheets, I tore up the bed. Suddenly, a SOMEWHAT LARGE SPIDER came running across the sheets. I killed it with some of the rage left over from discovering the poo. (I HAVE BEEN SLEEPING WITH A SPIDER.)

+I bought cat food for Abe Lincoln. I explained the "All Walk" intersection to a baffled pedestrian.

+I won 2 games of Cribbage. Hamb and I mourned and celebrated, respectively, by eating sushi.

+I visited Jodi in Lynnwood, because she was in the area for a SPED conference. She taught me about Autism.

And here is where it gets doofiest....

-My eye plowed into the Lumina's car door. No, I was not intoxicated. No, the door hadn't swung into my face. I simply leaned to grab my phone and BOOM. Cut under my eye. It bled. Now it's all band-aidy. It may be accompanied by a black eye in the morning.

I'm ready for a poo-free, eye-wound-free 3/12/10.

Beat the Drum, Parts 1 and 2

Reason #1 Today is a Good Day:
Hamble and I are celebrating two years since our first date. Aw. To honor the occasion, we will eat ice cream.

I love Hamble. Here we are eating sausage on date #1:

Psych! That's a picture of 2 aardvarks, one adult one baby.

Here we really are:



Reason #2 Today is a Good Day:
You know about Better Lovers Book Club, right? And you know they're my favorite people, and how we always have giggle storms together, and how they all live far away?

Well, scratch that last one off, because THREE - one, two, three! - are moving to Seattle within the next few months. I knew about EBot and Lynn, but now Jodi too! Woweewowowow.

Simile time: three of my bffs moving to Seattle is like waking up and discovering a thirty-foot high Reese's Peanut Butter Cup in my backyard. And that Peanut Butter Cup would be sheltered from the rain and other treat-stealers by a beautiful yet intimidating tent.

No worries. I'm still 24.

"She was twenty-five and looked it, and so there was no longer any need for her to try to be attractive."


Mitchell, Margaret. Gone with the Wind. New York, NY: Warner, 1993. Print.

Adorabirds

Play particularly close attention to the one at the far left. For pete's sake, these birds need to cuddle in my arms and go places with me, including work, the bank, and the grocery store.

You da man, Netflix! ("You are too, Phil!")

I opened my mailbox Monday, and there was a Netflix movie. "Huzzah!" I wooped. It was a foreign "film". (Don't you hate when people say "film"? I do, so I'm putting it in quotations to show I don't take the word - or myself - too seriously.) I'm looking FOREIGward to it. (See what I did there?)

(That's not the climax of the story, guys. We're still in "rising action" mode.)

Then I got some email from Netflix about how they couldn't get When Harry Met Sally to me even though it was first in my queue, but they'll try soon. "No worries," I thought, because I'm a laid-back gal.

Whoosh ahead to today. I open my mailbox just like I did Monday and - whoa! - another Netflix treat! And it was W.H.M.S., the same gall darn about which the rascals emailed me! This probably isn't a big deal to you 2-movies-at-a-time richies, but I scrimp. I pay for only one.

So I was like, "Shooooo, I bet I accidentally upgraded." A little clickity clacking on the internet showed me that no, I hadn't upgraded. Netflix was just being a sweetie! They gave me W.H.M.S. just to be the dollfaces they are. (That was the story's climax.)

Now I have extra-strong, positive feelings toward Netflix and I want you, reader pal, to subscribe if you hadn't already.

(That was the resolution. I will try to write more posts in story line format because I want to prove to my students how applicable our lessons are to real life.)

Saturday, Hikerday

My boyfriend is mountainy, and I do a decent job keeping up. Yesterday, Hamble and I took advantage of the freakishly warm February weather and moseyed up to the top of Mount Pilchuck.


Pretty, right? I never feared for my life, and only once was sure I would tumble down a steep, icy hill and become paralyzed in 30-75% of my body. Didn't happen. My limbs remain movey.

Best/only hike of 2010! And probably the top 3 hikes of my life. The plethora of dogs on the trail helped. (If you run into the waggliest brown husky you've ever seen, give him another pat for me.)

Holla' fo' the outdoors!

Next big idea

Remember the tiny whale idea? Like, how you could put some itsy bitsy Humpbacks in an aquarium in a doctor's office? Of course you do. Your collective silence, readers, indicated you were overwhelmed by the thought, in a good way.

Well here's the next one:

Teeny weeny woolly mammoth.

Do you love it? They'd have to be housetrained, of course, and their tusks would need to be dulled, but still. I envision them the size of a cocker spaniel, and just as snuggly as my parents' black lab.

Get to it, scientists.

Magic at Admiral Junction

At 3:00ish, I left for the library. The sun was blarey, so I wore my gray hat. No big deal. I always wear my gray hat.

At 3:10ish, I arrived at the library. I sat down next to an old man who looked like he'd hunt giant squid. He glanced over as I read Time. (By the way, how awful is the new Newsweek format?). I don't know why. I removed my hat and put it in my lap. It fell on the floor a few times.

Then I left the library. I walked to Safeway where I bought two rolls of paper towels, four Pink Lady apples, and a Dove dark chocolate bar (strategically located next to the tampons). Those were the only three items on my list. Self-control while shopping is one of my numerous strengths.

THIS IS WHERE THE MAGIC BEGINS, so don't stop reading. I was at the corner of Admiral and California - Admiral Junction, if you will. I could have gone west or north since my home was northwest. A former student whose name I can't remember was west, so I chose south. As I started to cross, I saw the scraggly, possible squid hunter... with my hat!

OH MY GOODNESS!

He waved to me and said, "You dropped this, and then you hurried out of the library so I couldn't give this to you! I can't believe we actually ran into each other!" Woweewowow. Since we were in the middle of the crosswalk, the cars stopped at the light were probably also enchanted by this moment.

Woweewowow again. Woweewow.

I saw where the guy lived, so I might leave him a cookie or something. I like that gray hat.

Vacation

The Man forced me to take a personal vacation day. It didn't have to be January 28th or anything, but why the heck not? Kids are in the lab, weekend's about to start, it'll do.

My vacation looks like this:
-Talk to the Payroll and Benefits lady. Fill out paperwork. Feel SO EXCITED.
-Set up my retirement plan. (Get ready for my giganto retirement party! June 2045!)
-Research dentists in Seattle. Recommendations? A plethora of magazines in the waiting room is my number one priority.
-Do laundry.
-Play tennis-ball with Solomon the Dog.*
-Try to fix the stink in my apartment. WHY IS THERE A STINK IN MY APARTMENT? Clean the litter box. Light candles. Continue to feel frustrated about the unchanged apartment stink.
-Go to the YMCA. Feel happy there's another Leonardo DiCaprio movie on channel 55. Elliptical to it.*
-Help boyfriend move into his fancy studio apartment.*
-Think about pho.
-Not actually go to pho.*
-Notice how perfectly my hair is flopping.
-Head up to B'ham for what is destined to be one of the Top 10 Weekends of '10 - snowboarding, free popcorn, dancing the night away, book club baby shower, sandwiches.

I'm living the dream, you guys.

*Predicted activity.

R.I.P., Mr. Salinger

But not in THAT much peace, because I hear J.D. Salinger was a jerk. Still, he wrote my favorite book - Franny and Zooey - and exemplified "voice" in writing. Angsty, over-privileged, 15-year-old boys around the United States will mourn the creator of their - yes, their very own, not anybody else's - Catcher in the Rye.

If it's true that he's been secretly writing for decades (the crotchety old man wouldn't share with anyone!) and that his works can be released now that he's croaked, well then color me p-u-m-p-e-d. Expect serious hermithood from me the week after his stuff is released. Hermithood and giggles.