Scotland or Bust!

I finally let everyone know that I'm going to Scotland. Tomorrow. I'll be out of the country for a bit, but I ought to have plenty to talk about when I get back. Until then, try not to get into too much trouble. M'kay?

p.s. I'M GOING TO SCOTLAND!! WOO-HOO!!

Hotel Pearl Jam

The other night I had one of those dreams that just won’t end. You know what I mean? Those dreams that really have no story-line but just keep going around and around and around until you almost wish you’d just wake up to stop the monotony.

In this dream I was in a quaint little setting much like that of MTV’s Unplugged set. I was sitting up front in a folding chair and had been pleased (although not excited) that I was about to see another show. It’d been a while.



Oh, I suppose I ought to mention that I’ve always referred to “concerts” as shows.

Anyway, sure enough Pearl Jam comes out and they play “I’m Still Alive.” The dream goes on and so does the song. But it gets to the point where I start getting annoyed and wonder if they’re ever going to play another song. EVER.

Then, as dreams have a habit of doing, I jump into another scene where some other uneventful thing happens… But then the next thing I know I’m back in my seat at the Pearl Jam concert awaiting the arrival of the band, and the whole scenario starts over again.

It was all very “Hotel California” and just too creepy for me, and I was glad when I woke up.

It makes me wonder, though. Is my psyche telling me something? Or maybe I'm just feeling like my life is going around and around in circles? Or maybe it's because Phil mentioned "I'm Still Alive" in his blog? Hm. Yeah, I think I'll just blame it on Phil. ;)

Diggin' on Me.

For the past couple of weeks my manager, S, has been teasing me about it. She's been all, "uh-HUH!" and I've been all "nuh-uh!" in response. (She thought one of the residents here was diggin' on me) But I just wasn't convinced. I mean, people are nice to me all the time. That's usually the response I get when I'm nice to them. You know... what goes around comes around, right?

Hm.

And all this time I just wasn't convinced.

Until yesterday.

Now I believe it is safe to say that it may, in fact, be true.

Oh, and here's the kicker: She's a chick.

Talk amongst yourselves.

In Line at the Pharmacy

I was in line at the Pharmacy drive-thru when I overheard the following:

Headless Voice: How may I help you?
Woman: [shouting so loud that children in India might’ve caught a fright] Yeah, do you sell (insert name of drug) here?!
Headless Voice: Pardon me?
Woman: [still screeching] (insert name of drug here)!! You know… the pill?

Seriously? Did she have to specify to someone working in a pharmacy that what she was asking for was a pill?!

But my real question to you is this: who is dumber, the lady shouting out her business to the word (because the name of the drug definitely gave away what her apparent “illness” was), or the dude behind the counter?

“Pardon me?!” Please.

Looking for Elvis at the Walmart

As you all know, I have a love/hate relationship with that store. You know, that one store where everyone goes in the hopes that they might find a bargain and maybe catch a glimpse of Elvis while they’re there? Yeah, that one. You knowww…



And I’ve expressed my feelings about shopping there in previous blogs. If you’re not familiar with the blogs I’m referring to then I would highly recommend you click here to read My Excursion to Walmart.

Now, with this in mind, imagine my glee and jubilation when a friend of mine posted the following link on Facebook:



Yes, my friends! Welcome to the world of the Walmart Creatures, found at www.PeopleOfWalmart.com. I kid you not when I say that I spent about an hour going through each and every one of the photos on that website. And I laughed heartily more than a few times.

I can’t describe the feeling I have about this website. It’s almost as if… as if all these years I’ve been telling people that Bigfoot exists and then BAM! A website appears chock full of photos providing evidence that Bigfoot does, in fact, exist. Only with a hillbilly twist.

I finally feel vindicated.

Ah, life is good once again. Oh yeah, and I just got back from my own trip to Walmart. I admit that I didn’t see Elvis there tonight but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.


(I found this AWESOME pic at http://morbidobsession.deviantart.com/.)

Ode to JT

Top three reasons why I love my best friend:

1. She speaks my language. For example, the following is an actual conversation she and I shared via Facebook:


Princess: JESSICA! Did you hear?! Hemme Royad and the Dire Rears are coming to the Moore Theater in time for Thanksgiving. I know you've been itching to see them. I'm trying to talk Clam into going... a group date!

JT: I can't wait! She seems eager.

Princess: You think that maybe we could swing some all-access passes to "behind the scene?" I'd like to see what goes on behind the Dire Rears.

JT: That would be interesting. I heard that The Schmears were opening for them.

Princess: *sniggering*



2. Her house is a reflection of her awesome personality. That’s why I love going there so much! Here is a collection of some random photos I took while at her home over the summer.


(in her front yard)


(kitchen window sill, part 1)


(kitchen window sill, part 2)


(These were born under her kid's bed)

3. Her kids are hilarious.


(JT's husband takes their only daughter on a slide ride at the Puyallup Fair)

I have barrels of laughs with JT and her family.

Now if only I could figure out a way for them to adopt me. :)

A Flock on Legs

I was in line at the checkout at the Dollar Store when I heard the strange loud whistling. It was a sort of high-pitched chirp-whistle thing and I thought maybe someone was playing with their car alarm. But when I walked out of the store with bags in had, I saw this:



Pretty rad, eh? That's a flock of birds on two legs if I ever saw one.

Nifty.

Oh, and for those of you who were wondering, no I'm not dead on the side of the road. And yes, I do intend to continue blogging. It's just that real life has a tendency to catch up with a blogger such as myself and I got a wee bitty overwhelmed. Not surprising when you take into consideration that I've been moving (by myself) into my own apartment, there have been major issues at work, I have sort of started seeing someone, and I'm just plain boring to boot. ;)

Ah but no worries, I've been filing amusing little tid-bits in the back of my mind to pull out for future blogs. But until then, let me know what you think!

NerdGirl: Where to Even Start?

FREAKIN’ FACEBOOK!

Ugh. Oh my gosh. Holy crapola on a cracker!

Ok, so here’s what happened.

I was spying.

Yes, I know, how lame can a person be? But there’s just something fun about spying on people you are curious about. And usually it’s really easy to do, especially when you know how to find people. Not that it’s all that difficult.

No, I’m not talking about stalking or even trolling. I was just curious. But now my curiosity is going to get me into trouble. CRAP!


(Super Der-Dee-Der Spy, you mean.)

See, I’ve been putzing around on Facebook for the past hour just updating and commenting and blah blah blah. And, of course, that got boring fast. So what did I decide to do? I decided to look up people I’ve met through my job. Ones where I could remember their emails real easily. Ok, only ONE person whose email I could remember easily. But of course Facebook decided to go all crazy on me when I was trying to type in his email.

This is where you picture me typing, then re-typing, then re-typing again while quickly trying to trick Facebook by pushing the Delete button quickly (Stoopid Facebook kept adding crap to the email addy I was trying to type!), all with an annoyed yet focused look on my face.

Then, the next thing I know I’m getting a message saying something to the effect of, “Sorry, we didn’t send an email to that person because they’re already registered with Facebook. We’ve already sent him a friend request on your behalf.”

And I found myself screaming at the computer screen, “NOOOOO! Oh no! Oh NO!!”

I’m pretty sure I’m still hyperventilating.

I thought about sending him a message in which I apologize profusely and insist that it was all some wacky accident involving lots of medication and an enormous brain fart. But then reason started to kick in. This guy doesn’t even have a profile photo of himself posted on Facebook yet. I bet he’s the type who rarely checks his FB, and when he does he’ll probably think I’m just some ho trying to hit him up for some five-dollar-lovin. Ugh. One can only hope.

*snort*

I’ll definitely let you know how this one turns out.

What Up Dog?

It was Friday night. We were at Charlie's in downtown Puyallup to sing some karaoke. We'd already cut the birthday cake and eaten it gleefully when I noticed one of the coolest vans drive by. I was so disappointed that I didn't have my camera on me.

An hour or so later I leave Charlie's (I had to work in the morning--no late nights for me on the weekends) only to discover that the RAD-MOBILE had parked itself in Charlie's parking lot! I skipped over singing, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!!" After all, my birthday wish had come true.

Rest your eyes on THIS beauty:



Ok, so I decided not to post the one with the entire weiner van in it because both the dude in the window and I had (unfixable) bright red lazer-beam eyeballs. But still. I think this photo alone should prove that the classy "What Up Dog?" mobile was all a gal could wish for on her birthday.

That, and a giant flower balloon that doubles as a giant bobble-head.

The Velvety Dark Shnoz of Luff.

Reasons why I love my cat:

1. He doesn't mind my mood swings.
2. He cries for me from the bottom of the stairs when I get home from work.
3. He doesn't have to be walked.
4. He doesn't defecate in the house.
5. He brings me presents.

Regarding number 5, two days ago I came home from work to find my bedroom COVERED in bird feathers. Apparently he'd finally scored in catching a bird. I hate it when he catches birds, but he's such a crappy hunter that 98% of the time I can rest assured that he's not going to bring anything home. I even keep a bird feeder just outside my bedroom window so he'll have something to keep him preoccupied.

Anyway, not only did I find the bird alive under my bed, but my cat had pulled out so many of its feathers that it couldn't fly. It was just hopping around on one foot (the other had been injured), but doing a great job at keeping away from the cat. I did manage to catch it and release it, although I don't think it lasted the night. Poor thing.

And then yesterday when I got home from work I noticed something distinctly... lumpy in my cat's food bowl. Lo and behold, this is what I discovered:



(It's a small, very dead mole.)

My cat, Kenny, decided to put this small dead mole in his food bowl, just like he puts my hair bands and his favorite shoelace. It was just another toy to him and he had put it away. Have I mentioned that I love my cat? Yeah, I'm crazy about 'im. My sweet Hunter kitty with the velvety dark shnoz of luff. *smiles*