My favorite quote from my favorite movie:
"Shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut your fat ass, Ravie. I can't buy a pack of smokes without running into nine guys you fucked."
--Rocco, The Boondock Saints
Friday, April 9, 2010
Science Project
So, as this weekend begins I am doing one of my four science projects. For this project, titled Ecological Footprint, I have to be accountable for every bit of water, fuel, packaging, etc., that I use and basically sum it up in an essay. I've only just started, and I must say, my ecological footprint is huge. If it were an actual foot it would probably be a size seventeen. But, you know what that means? If I have a huge ecological footprint, that means my ecological dick is also huge.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
A word of advice from my brother
Him: "If you eat a polar bear liver, you'll die."
Me: "In what world would that ever happen?"
Him: "Listen, dude, I'm just letting you know."
Me: "Ok, thanks. Next time I'm confronted with a polar bear I won't attempt to eat his liver."
Me: "In what world would that ever happen?"
Him: "Listen, dude, I'm just letting you know."
Me: "Ok, thanks. Next time I'm confronted with a polar bear I won't attempt to eat his liver."
Coming Soon
UPDATE: That gorgeous colored pencil drawing won third place in an art contest. Like I said, AWESOME.
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I've been attempting to publish what I am about to talk about for quite some time now. However, I have a really bad habit. See, I'll write thirty pages of material, but I won't save the finished product onto my computer before I hit print. Therefore, I hit print and then do not save the document, so when I go back to look over it, I have huge chunks missing, or a shorter, choppier piece then I ended with.
I keep telling myself not to do it, but for whatever reason, I still do it each and EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I. WRITE. Well, I'm basically here to announce what it is that I'll soon be publishing.
For a friend's birthday last June, I, being a poor college student, and my friend Gooch, really wanted to get our friend something that was unique and fun and specifically for her. Target giftcards are awesome, but anyone can buy them and then the person receiving it knows exactly how much they're worth to you.
Gooch and I wanted to gift our friend Gruffy with something she would treasure forever. So, we decided to make her a story book. Gooch is a fucking fantastic artist. Really, she rocks the fuck out of everything she does. Here, I'll show you some samples:
That is a drawing she did, which is awesome. I have to fight the urge to steal it from her. She's also a pretty bitchen photog. My profile pic is one she took of me, and she didn't make me look hideous, which is really fantastic. (If you are thinking that I look hideous in that picture, I'm not going to argue with you.) And that little pic wedged down there (you'll have to tilt your head--DAMN YOU, WINDOWS MEDIA GALLERY wouldn't flip it for me) is also one of hers. Like I said, awesome. Here's her blog: The Gooch Goodness. She updates once in a blue moon, but she's also worth listening to.
Well, anyways, back to the present. I love to write. I could write about anything and anyone and I will if you ask me to. Right now, I am working on something called Zombie: A Love Story, which is going to be a short story I'll be working on this summer. But, again, back to the present.
Gruffy's two favorite things are vampires and Nicolas Cage. So, I wrote her a story in which Nicolas Cage is a vampire. Gooch illustrated it. Gruffy loved it, but also so did Gooch and I. So, for Gooch's birthday in August, I wrote another story. This time, I added Keanu Reeves and a host of other characters I knew would make my friends laugh. The second story was, to toot my own horn, better than the first. Gruffy and Gooch LOVED the second story and so I wrote them a third for Christmas. By the time I was writing the third story, and had broken through the forty page mark, I realized that though I could never actually publish these (Believe me, if you read them they're full of libelous crap lawsuits are made of), I could show them here to those who wanted some entertainment. I recently finished the fourth and final story (as of right now) and as I compiled everything together, the stories are well over 100 pages.
To me, it seemed like such a waste to have them sit in a Document and rot, when there might, possibly, be other people in the world who could get some enjoyment out of them. I'll be seeing Gruffy again soon, and I'm going to borrow her book, scan all the pages and pics into Gooch's computer, and then post them on this site. I do so only hoping anyone who reads them does simply for enjoyment. I'll post another...erm, I guess it's a warning label later.
So, that is basically what you'll have to look forward to, besides my crazy rants about life in general. Also, once Zombie: A Love Story is completed, I'll post it on here. If you can't tell, I love zombies!!
This poster is hells on my wishlist, son.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I've been attempting to publish what I am about to talk about for quite some time now. However, I have a really bad habit. See, I'll write thirty pages of material, but I won't save the finished product onto my computer before I hit print. Therefore, I hit print and then do not save the document, so when I go back to look over it, I have huge chunks missing, or a shorter, choppier piece then I ended with.
I keep telling myself not to do it, but for whatever reason, I still do it each and EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I. WRITE. Well, I'm basically here to announce what it is that I'll soon be publishing.
For a friend's birthday last June, I, being a poor college student, and my friend Gooch, really wanted to get our friend something that was unique and fun and specifically for her. Target giftcards are awesome, but anyone can buy them and then the person receiving it knows exactly how much they're worth to you.
Gooch and I wanted to gift our friend Gruffy with something she would treasure forever. So, we decided to make her a story book. Gooch is a fucking fantastic artist. Really, she rocks the fuck out of everything she does. Here, I'll show you some samples:
That is a drawing she did, which is awesome. I have to fight the urge to steal it from her. She's also a pretty bitchen photog. My profile pic is one she took of me, and she didn't make me look hideous, which is really fantastic. (If you are thinking that I look hideous in that picture, I'm not going to argue with you.) And that little pic wedged down there (you'll have to tilt your head--DAMN YOU, WINDOWS MEDIA GALLERY wouldn't flip it for me) is also one of hers. Like I said, awesome. Here's her blog: The Gooch Goodness. She updates once in a blue moon, but she's also worth listening to.
Well, anyways, back to the present. I love to write. I could write about anything and anyone and I will if you ask me to. Right now, I am working on something called Zombie: A Love Story, which is going to be a short story I'll be working on this summer. But, again, back to the present.
Gruffy's two favorite things are vampires and Nicolas Cage. So, I wrote her a story in which Nicolas Cage is a vampire. Gooch illustrated it. Gruffy loved it, but also so did Gooch and I. So, for Gooch's birthday in August, I wrote another story. This time, I added Keanu Reeves and a host of other characters I knew would make my friends laugh. The second story was, to toot my own horn, better than the first. Gruffy and Gooch LOVED the second story and so I wrote them a third for Christmas. By the time I was writing the third story, and had broken through the forty page mark, I realized that though I could never actually publish these (Believe me, if you read them they're full of libelous crap lawsuits are made of), I could show them here to those who wanted some entertainment. I recently finished the fourth and final story (as of right now) and as I compiled everything together, the stories are well over 100 pages.To me, it seemed like such a waste to have them sit in a Document and rot, when there might, possibly, be other people in the world who could get some enjoyment out of them. I'll be seeing Gruffy again soon, and I'm going to borrow her book, scan all the pages and pics into Gooch's computer, and then post them on this site. I do so only hoping anyone who reads them does simply for enjoyment. I'll post another...erm, I guess it's a warning label later.
So, that is basically what you'll have to look forward to, besides my crazy rants about life in general. Also, once Zombie: A Love Story is completed, I'll post it on here. If you can't tell, I love zombies!!
This poster is hells on my wishlist, son.
She and Him
Seriously, if you haven't heard them yet, I suggest you give them a listen. Their sound is great music to write a paper to, as the beat goes along with the punching of keys. Also, you're most likely going to find yourself shaking your head to their beats or pausing to dance along to the music. Or, maybe that's just me.
Here's a link if interested. And here's a vid that I enjoy.
Here's a link if interested. And here's a vid that I enjoy.
Coming Home
So, I got home from dinner at my grandparents and pulled into the driveway. I turned off my car, switched off my ipod and threw it in my purse. As I paused to gather my things, I glanced out my windshield onto the rock-thingie that came with our house. Perched onto a rock, next to a cactus, were two lizards. At first, I thought the bigger lizard was attempting to eat the smaller lizard, so I hopped out of the car to come to its aid. However, as I got closer, I realized the two lizards were doing it. And I had interrupted them. My b, lizards, my b. You do your thang.
Doing It Wrong
I found my mom's old Thigh Master Gold and was using it to strengthen my thighs. This type of workout is incredibly dangerous. Why? Well, I was laying in bed watching television.
I know, you're thinking, "I don't see the problem..."
I was laying in my bed, watching television, using Thigh Master Gold and eating Ritz crackers at the same time. My brother came in, took one look at me and said, "FAIL." and left. I actually had a legit, honest to God fail, worthy of Epic Fail if properly nominated.
Also, on a completely different note, I painted my nails perfectly for the first time in my life. And by perfectly I mean there weren't blood-like splotches and droplets around my nails, or smudges on the pads of my fingers from wiping away excess paint. If only my fingers weren't stained red, yellow and green. See previous post about tie dye hands...Seriously, it looks like I jerked a clown or something.
I know, you're thinking, "I don't see the problem..."
I was laying in my bed, watching television, using Thigh Master Gold and eating Ritz crackers at the same time. My brother came in, took one look at me and said, "FAIL." and left. I actually had a legit, honest to God fail, worthy of Epic Fail if properly nominated.
Also, on a completely different note, I painted my nails perfectly for the first time in my life. And by perfectly I mean there weren't blood-like splotches and droplets around my nails, or smudges on the pads of my fingers from wiping away excess paint. If only my fingers weren't stained red, yellow and green. See previous post about tie dye hands...Seriously, it looks like I jerked a clown or something.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Thought of the Day
So, today I got the chance to make a tie dyed shirt. I have not been that happy to be outside in the hot sun and on the beach since I was five and was excited by stuff like a butterfly whizzing past my face. And I was happy because I got a free t-shirt and the opportunity to squirt colorful dye onto it. I was beyond jazzed.
I started dyeing my shirt and then halfway through I looked down at my hands and noticed my fingers were also tie dyed. I then looked around and noticed the other girls around me and my roommate all had gloves on. I asked my roommate, "Why didn't you tell me there were gloves?" She shrugged. And said, "
Sorry. I am completely cutting into the middle of my own post and interuppting myself, but I am watching The Stephen Colbert show and JOHN. MOTHER FUCKING. GOODMAN was just on a clip for a new show I will now be actively looking for. Called Treme. I don't care if it's a show with John Goodman grocery shopping--I'll watch it.
Right, back to my boring ass story. Unbelievable. I upstaged myself by bringing up John Goodman. How can I come back from that?
Basically, all I was trying to say was that tie dyed skin would be awesome. That's basically what I was trying to get at...
(*Face palm and sigh*)
I started dyeing my shirt and then halfway through I looked down at my hands and noticed my fingers were also tie dyed. I then looked around and noticed the other girls around me and my roommate all had gloves on. I asked my roommate, "Why didn't you tell me there were gloves?" She shrugged. And said, "
Sorry. I am completely cutting into the middle of my own post and interuppting myself, but I am watching The Stephen Colbert show and JOHN. MOTHER FUCKING. GOODMAN was just on a clip for a new show I will now be actively looking for. Called Treme. I don't care if it's a show with John Goodman grocery shopping--I'll watch it.
Right, back to my boring ass story. Unbelievable. I upstaged myself by bringing up John Goodman. How can I come back from that?
Basically, all I was trying to say was that tie dyed skin would be awesome. That's basically what I was trying to get at...
(*Face palm and sigh*)
One of Life's Truths
Mapquest directions should start at number five. It's like, "Mapquest, I understand how to get out of my own neighborhood, but thanks anyways."
Happy Birthday
Yesterday was my babies' birthday. No, I am not a crazy cat lady. Not yet. Though, I do have a funny story about being a cat lady.
On Valentine's Day this year, I was in an awful mood and confessed to my friend, "I'm going to die alone! I'm going to be a crazy cat lady!" Her response? "You can't be a crazy cat lady, remember? Even your cat doesn't like you." I responded, "Oh, yes, that's right."
So, yeah, that's my crazy cat lady story. And no, my cat does love me, he just doesn't show it without some prodding. But, anyways, I'm just so happy they're alive. See, for the past two years we've had a really odd thing happen to us on Easter Sunday. Easter 2008, our 22 year old cat hopped the fence and we never saw her again. I'm assuming by now she has passed on to Kitty Heaven. Easter 2009 our 19 year old cat was hit and killed by a car. Obviously, my main concern this Easter was keeping my cats alive and luckily, the curse has been broken. I am very happy for this, because I luhhhhhhh them. I raised them since they were youngins and they slept in my room for the first five months of their life.
This post has made me seem like a crazy cat lady. Again, I'm not...Not yet...
On Valentine's Day this year, I was in an awful mood and confessed to my friend, "I'm going to die alone! I'm going to be a crazy cat lady!" Her response? "You can't be a crazy cat lady, remember? Even your cat doesn't like you." I responded, "Oh, yes, that's right."
So, yeah, that's my crazy cat lady story. And no, my cat does love me, he just doesn't show it without some prodding. But, anyways, I'm just so happy they're alive. See, for the past two years we've had a really odd thing happen to us on Easter Sunday. Easter 2008, our 22 year old cat hopped the fence and we never saw her again. I'm assuming by now she has passed on to Kitty Heaven. Easter 2009 our 19 year old cat was hit and killed by a car. Obviously, my main concern this Easter was keeping my cats alive and luckily, the curse has been broken. I am very happy for this, because I luhhhhhhh them. I raised them since they were youngins and they slept in my room for the first five months of their life.
So happy birthday, babies!
Then
NowThis post has made me seem like a crazy cat lady. Again, I'm not...Not yet...
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
An open letter to Livejournal
Dear Livejournal,
Hello. You don't know me, but I joined your site today and ripped all of my hair out in frustration just trying to navigate through your site. Your site is what I imagine the inner workings of my brain to look like during finals week. After fifteen minutes of going on a loop-dee-loop that kept bringing me back to the SAME. DAMN. PAGE. I went and ate half a batch of Tollhouse cookies. Happy, Livejournal? ARE YOU HAPPY?
Sincerly,
birchwood29.
Hello. You don't know me, but I joined your site today and ripped all of my hair out in frustration just trying to navigate through your site. Your site is what I imagine the inner workings of my brain to look like during finals week. After fifteen minutes of going on a loop-dee-loop that kept bringing me back to the SAME. DAMN. PAGE. I went and ate half a batch of Tollhouse cookies. Happy, Livejournal? ARE YOU HAPPY?
Sincerly,
birchwood29.
Daily Celeb Birthday
http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/thu-november-6-2008/paul-rudd
Paul Rudd.
From 1:20 to 2:20 is why I love him.
Paul Rudd.
From 1:20 to 2:20 is why I love him.
The gift that keeps on giving
I have officially come to the conclusion that I control what is on the television. Oh, I suppose you'd like an explanation? I'll do my best to explain it. I'll randomly think of an episode of say Will and Grace or Wife Swap and then either that day, or the next day it'll randomly be on. Same with Lifetime movies. A certain Lifetime movie will cross my mind and then the next day it will be on.
This has been met with skepticism, especially from friends and family. My sister said, "Are you sure you aren't looking at a t.v. guide before you make these proclamations?" The answer is no. The answer is I'm magic.
Don't laugh at this power. It here, it's real and it controls what you watch.
This has been met with skepticism, especially from friends and family. My sister said, "Are you sure you aren't looking at a t.v. guide before you make these proclamations?" The answer is no. The answer is I'm magic.
Don't laugh at this power. It here, it's real and it controls what you watch.
Question
For anyone who reads this blog, I pose a question to you. An answer would be lovely, but if not that's okay, too. I am thinking about posting some of my original stories on this site in small chapter increments. So, I am simply asking if anyone would be interested in reading that. To be truthful, I would probably post them anyways, but I'd like feedback from those who read this blog. Don't worry, I'll still have my inane and insane ramblings. Again, a reply = a happy face.
Special K
I love those Special K protein water commercials where the woman is offered a giagantic piece of chocolate cake or the protein water in her bag. She pauses, the screen freezes and then she smiles. Everything speeds back up and she reaches into her purse and grabs the water. She takes a huge sip and smiles contentedly.
I watch those commercials and think, "I'd drink that water, too, to wash down the big ole piece of cake." Those commercials make me laugh.
I watch those commercials and think, "I'd drink that water, too, to wash down the big ole piece of cake." Those commercials make me laugh.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Interesting
While I was driving back to school this morning, the staticy station I listen to my ipod on suddenly got service. Usually I listen to the lower stations, where one second I'll be listening to Florence+ the Machine and the next minute I'm listening to, "REPENT SATAN AND FEEL JESUS' LOVE FOR YOU!!" from one of the religious stations. The first couple of times it has happened to me it really freaked me out because at first I literally thought it was the voice of God. I was like, "Alright, alright, I'll stop making Buddy Christ jokes. You don't need to yell." However, this morning I was listening to a different radio station, so instead of angry minsters screaming at me for my tainted soul, I heard something else. By my fiftieth drive back to school I can almost pinpoint down to the last second exactly when my iPod is going to switch from static to clear, and I am usually prepared. This morning, though, I was heavily dancing along to the song to notice and so my ears went from listening to one song to another.
I had never heard this song before (Ever since I bought an iPod hookup for my car, I no longer listen to the radio) and found it to be slightly catchy. I listened to it for a second before switching stations and going back to my music. However, all day long I've been humming this song in my head. I thought the girl had an alright voice, the chorus was catchy enough so I kept repeating the only line I knew over and over again in my head. Finally, when I got back from class I immediately got on the computer and Googled the lyrics. I then found out something quite interesting.
That girl I had been singing along to was in fact not a girl, but Justin Bieber.Justin Bieber sounds like a sixteen year old girl and has the same haircut my mother had in 1976. I am not a fan of Justin Bieber.
I had never heard this song before (Ever since I bought an iPod hookup for my car, I no longer listen to the radio) and found it to be slightly catchy. I listened to it for a second before switching stations and going back to my music. However, all day long I've been humming this song in my head. I thought the girl had an alright voice, the chorus was catchy enough so I kept repeating the only line I knew over and over again in my head. Finally, when I got back from class I immediately got on the computer and Googled the lyrics. I then found out something quite interesting.
That girl I had been singing along to was in fact not a girl, but Justin Bieber.Justin Bieber sounds like a sixteen year old girl and has the same haircut my mother had in 1976. I am not a fan of Justin Bieber.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Holidays
I hope anyone who actually reads this had an enjoyable Easter holiday. Half of my family was missing, so I didn't particularly enjoy myself, but then again, I haven't really enjoyed a holiday since Christmas 2004. There was one thing that I noticed today that I think people like me suffer from every year. If you, like me, are an extremely picky eater, then holidays are probably miserable for you.
Seriously, it is tiring explaining to ten different people twenty different times that no, I really don't like salad. No, I don't like tomatoes, but yes I like marinara sauce. Am I hungry? I'm starving, but I am not about to chow down on the foliage you are currently offering. I'll wait for some meat. Is that an egg on that plate, Dad? I don't eat eggs and haven't in the nineteen years you've known me. Sure, I'll try that cake. Oh, it has pineapple in it? Never mind then. Yes, that's right, I hate pineapple.
These are just samples of some of the things I have had to repeat what felt like hundreds of times today. I am a very picky eater, but I am totally fine with that. It is everyone around me who can't wrap their head around the fact that I hate hamburgers. And yes, I realize that most of the food I hate, I hate for childish reasons. Tuna? Because it smells like death. Salad? Because it's cold and rubbery and gross. Corn? Fuck you and your corn.
And for about three hundred days out of the year I am perfectly content to eat my broccoli (only the way my dad makes it) and my potatoes and my meat (only if there is balsamic vinegar to dip said meat into). However, it is around the holidays and birthdays, when most of the family is together, that I have to keep explaining myself and it is so tiring.
That is why I propose a support group for picky eaters. There needs to be one, especially because some of the looks and comments I get are so frustrating. What is to you if I never eat a piece of cucumber in my life? Am I really going to be lying on my deathbed thinking about all the food I never ate? I hope not. Also, only another picky eater will understand that you won't eat hamburger because it smells funny, or you won't touch carrots because they're creepy looking. I wonder if there is a way to really get a support group up and running. I'll even be the first person.
Hello, my name is Kayla, and I hate ketchup.
Seriously, it is tiring explaining to ten different people twenty different times that no, I really don't like salad. No, I don't like tomatoes, but yes I like marinara sauce. Am I hungry? I'm starving, but I am not about to chow down on the foliage you are currently offering. I'll wait for some meat. Is that an egg on that plate, Dad? I don't eat eggs and haven't in the nineteen years you've known me. Sure, I'll try that cake. Oh, it has pineapple in it? Never mind then. Yes, that's right, I hate pineapple.
These are just samples of some of the things I have had to repeat what felt like hundreds of times today. I am a very picky eater, but I am totally fine with that. It is everyone around me who can't wrap their head around the fact that I hate hamburgers. And yes, I realize that most of the food I hate, I hate for childish reasons. Tuna? Because it smells like death. Salad? Because it's cold and rubbery and gross. Corn? Fuck you and your corn.
And for about three hundred days out of the year I am perfectly content to eat my broccoli (only the way my dad makes it) and my potatoes and my meat (only if there is balsamic vinegar to dip said meat into). However, it is around the holidays and birthdays, when most of the family is together, that I have to keep explaining myself and it is so tiring.
That is why I propose a support group for picky eaters. There needs to be one, especially because some of the looks and comments I get are so frustrating. What is to you if I never eat a piece of cucumber in my life? Am I really going to be lying on my deathbed thinking about all the food I never ate? I hope not. Also, only another picky eater will understand that you won't eat hamburger because it smells funny, or you won't touch carrots because they're creepy looking. I wonder if there is a way to really get a support group up and running. I'll even be the first person.
Hello, my name is Kayla, and I hate ketchup.
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