Refrigerator of Death

It's been a month since my last posting, so I am forcing myself to write today. It is almost time for my lunch break, and staring at me from my desk is a Cup O' Noodles with a cartoon chicken on it. While I'm excited to eat this sodium-filled novelty, it is a slight reminder of my poverty. And my hatred of grocery stores. A peek in my refrigerator would reveal a disgusting scenario: a complete lack of edible foods. Currently, I have 2 liters of milk, one which is fresh, the other which has separated, the jug bloated with gases. That is only the tip of the iceberg, my friend.

Take a tour with me, why don't you? Over to the left on the inside of the door are the condiments, various salad dressings, 3 containers of cream cheese, and maybe a packet or two of duck sauce. Most of these are fine, minus the jar of moldy marinara. Moving onward from the door, you will find the top shelf to be stocked with 3 half-eaten loaves of bread (hardened, of course), a brown banana (hey, I can make banana bread with that), tortillas, an old pudding cup, month-old hummus, and a bowl covered in tin foil, the contents of which are a mystery. The middle shelf contains that infamous spoiled, bloated milk, as well as good milk, bad vegetables in Tupperware, another pudding cup, a bag of mini bagels, and some salsa. It is shelf #3 that is the most hideous. A bottle of soda whose carbonation no longer exists, a bag of squishy apples, a Brita pitcher with tiny black dots of carbon in the water, more tin-foiled bowls of mystery contents, and a 2 month old pan of dried brownies. Atop the dried brownies is a dish of homemade peanut butter frosting, equally old and equally dry. I won't even subject you to the vegetable drawers.

Though I have not yet found the culprit of the fridge stink, I know it's in there. While this kind of disgust is often normal for those of us in our early 20s, I still can't help but doubt my domestic skills. How can I raise children with a refrigerator that could eat them? "Mom, what's for dinner?" "I don't know- a dry piece of wheat toast and a bowl of French dressing. If you look hard enough, you might find an old carrot." My roommate and I have labeled our fridge "Second Garbage." I blame my bad fridge-keeping skills on my hatred of grocery shopping. And being picked on as a child.

Computer angst

Here is a silly poem I wrote for my friend, who coined the line, "Nasty devilish mind, it likes to see me sweat and cry." I thought it would make a good song, or in this case, a good line in a poem.


Computer turn on, computer turn off
I wish it were this simple
My stress over this computer mess
Is giving me a pimple

One click, two click
My mouse accomplishes nothing
On this frozen screen of death
I wish it would do something

And something it does
But something I am not in control of
Where'd my text just go?
What happened to th




It has a mind of it's own
No matter what I try
Nasty devilish mind,
It likes to see me sweat and cry

It watches me as I sleep
And dream dreams of baseball bats
And bb guns and destructive tools
With which to combat (it)

Computer, you can't break me
I'll wrestle you to the death
I'll re-code you and update you
Until you take your final breath

!!!alweirke89347250fljlk1-2od;f'.';.@#$%a;dlj!!!

What's that you say?
Your garbled demonic speech
Echoes through the cyber halls
Slipping out of reach

I'm the master and you're the tool
Who can't take over the world
And outwit us humans
Whose wits will soon unfurl

Computer, stop your hissing
And obey my commands
I am victorious
With my tiny hands

I thought I outgrew this at age 3

Let me depict a series of events for you. They begin like this:

At around 5:00 pm yesterday, I was filled with an unexpected joy, a joie de vie propelled by the end of a workday and a bit of sunshine peaking through the dense clouds. This inspired me to go the the store to buy a bottle of wine, mostly to cheer up my disheartened roommate. Not just any store, and not just any wine, might I add. I headed to the grocery store for a bottle of their finest Boone's Farm, peach flavor. I am not a drinker, nor do I like wine, but if the wine tastes like it came from a juice box, then order me a glass of that. The entrance to the grocery store was decorated with spring flowers, and I also purchased a small pot of daffodils. My next thought went, "hmmmm, jellybeans." I left the store with my 3 items.

The following hours were spent eating dinner, drinking a glass of Boone's, watching shows on Hulu, Justin Bieber videos, filing nails, hanging with roommate. It was that late hour between 9:00 and 10:00 where it went sour. This hour involved scissors and hair, a combo nastier than peanut butter and mayonnaise (and I would know). I was badly in need of a trim just to remove my split ends. This part went well, but was enhanced when my roommate began getting creative with her hair, trimming not just her ends, but revamping her layers. "I want to do that too," I said, like a child watching her older sister. 5 minutes later, I was holding a rather large chunk of hair and saying "What have I done?". I comforted myself by thinking it would just blend into my layers.

This morning's hair blowing revealed a different outcome. Those were some important hairs I cut off.

:(


Today's playlist: Lykke Li "Everybody But Me"

Random...R-R-Random!

Two things. First thing: I am disillusioned. Never have I ever heard this bit of information passed on to me today, leaving me shell-shocked. Apparently, sometime over the past 10 years or so, it has become unnecessary, perhaps even frowned upon, to include two spaces following a period. As an English minor, I've typed my share of papers over the years, and have obviously wasted a few trees in the process with all of my freakish spaces taking up the page. It is a habit that is hard to break; even this post is double-spaced after periods. I was lucky to have a great English teacher in high school, and a number of great English professors in college, and I ain't never heard of no single space after a period. Never.

Second thing: I am disgusted. I brought a bologna (baloney, as preferred by some) sandwich for lunch today. Bologna is a lunch meat which, like pepperoni or hot dogs, is best not pondered or analyzed- it is what it is. However, its general sliminess has put me off since childhood. A few days ago, I saw this Oscar Mayer mystery while on a desperate grocery mission. "Eww, bologna," was my first thought, followed by a quick, "Mmmm, bologna." The latter thought won out, possibly due to my cold meds coupled with my apartment's extreme lack of food. I bought that package of bologna. I guess I was feeling rambunctious today, because as I was eating, I started to contemplate. The package said "Made from chicken and pork." Ok, I can deal with that, though typically, I don't like to mix meats. I guess what was bothering me was the gelatin-like quality of the bologna. Meat should not exhibit qualities of jello. The worst part, however, is that every once in awhile, while chewing the bologna, you crunch on a little something. Something of a different texture, something that has been ground down till barely noticeable in the jelly meat, something like....hoof, perhaps?

Sick.

I still finished the sandwich.

One day I woke up, and I was a nerd

This post is inspired by "Louie," whose comment on this week's CNN recap of LOST nearly threw me into a maniacal outburst. He wrote the following:

"Uh, does anyone else see a problem with Sawyer magically becoming a cop in the "flash sideways"? In all of the other characters' alternate universe lives, their fates change only AFTER the Oceanic flight. Their histories prior to the flight were the same as they were in the "real" universe (i.e., their island selves). If Sawyer was a cop–and partnered with Miles (!)–prior to the Oceanic flight, this causes all sorts of continuity problems. Major flaw, if you ask me."

Seriously, Louie, you almost made me choke on my Craisins. Let me explain, in detail, where the real "major flaw" lies- it is in your interpretation.

Obviously, Louie has not religiously flopped himself in front of his tv screen with a bag of Fritos each week like I have. Otherwise, he would have never made this mistake. The lives of the characters in the flash sideways did not change AFTER the Oceanic flight- they were different all along. For example, Jack has a son, Hurley is lucky, Ben is a teacher, Sawyer is a cop, etc. Their flash sideways lives are completely different, and these differences are unrelated to the Oceanic flight. This time line is not a "what would have happened if they hadn't crashed" time line, but a parallel time line. Yes, that means that both time lines- island and non-crash- are happening at the same time. You shouldn't be so shocked; what is "normal" about anything happening on LOST? Google "many worlds theory." That will blow your mind; seriously, mine literally blew up.

So maybe on-island and off-island time lines will balance each other somehow. I mean, it seems that the characters in the off-island/flash sideways time line are a lot less crappy. They still have issues, but overall, they seem to be better people. Just like when Locke held up the backgammon pieces, explaining to Walt that there are two sides- dark and light. Maybe there has to be a perfect balance between on-island and off-island before the two time lines merge together. I don't know, just thinkin'.

Lastly, it is Jack. It has always been Jack.

But don't worry, Louie, I am not mad. In some parallel universe out there, I am the one who doesn't know what's happening on LOST, and you are the one explaining it to me.


Today's playlist:
Adele "Cold Shoulder"
Owl City "Hello Seattle" (I like the part about the albatross)

Dear Blog

Dear Blog,
I must address your purpose in my life- you are a starting point. Post-college life and a necessary but sometimes mindless job has stripped me of important brain cells. I am afraid that if I don't stimulate my gray matter in some way other than playing 50 games of Bananagrams with my roommate, I will lose what creative ability remains.

You are a starting point because from this point on, I will attempt to consistently blog about my daily musings. I can't promise these musings will contain any depth whatsoever, in fact, they will probably be select thoughts that serve no purpose other than inspiring me to write. And hopefully, I will sometimes fulfill the purpose posed by your title.

So there it is, Blog. From here on out, I will use you as my outlet, where I throw up all sorts of useless information and anecdotes. I think we are going to be good friends.


Sincerely,
Blogger


Today's playlist: Feist- "Mushaboom" (Mocky mix)

2 friends, 1 brain

Hello world wide web,
As this is my first blog post, I would like to thank my friend, Spoken Holly, for her creative genius. Without her, I would be a lost space particle.