A polka-dotted skort/jumpsuit (or are they culottes, I never know) on a woman with her nose pierced. I wanted to mention to her that if you are rebellious enough to get a rod punched through your nose, you’re badass enough to leave the skort/culotte/jumpsuit behind. And it takes a special kind of woman to pull off polka dots. Sorry, you’re not her.
You should, it was well documented on this site. I was in Italy and afraid I would never again get the chance to eat gelato with reckless abandon, so I ate 3 delicious ice cream treats each day to make up for it. And I ballooned. It was truly frightening.
Since then, I’ve “tried” to be a little better about my obession with sweets, ice cream in particular. I’ve cut down quite a bit, I think. My husband would disagree. But he also owns a Quake t-shirt and used to attend LAN “parties” in old warehouses, so, really, who is he to question me?
So yesterday, when I checked my work email in Iowa and saw that we were having an ice cream social at my work (yes, I work at one of those places that has random ice cream socials), I didn’t curse or scream or throw a fit because I was out of the office. But when I got in today and received an email about how there was leftover ice cream in the upstairs kitchen, I tried to stay away. I succeeded until about 8:30 a.m. Then I ate this:
And now, I may vomit.
So, I’m traveling today for work and don’t really have anything to post. In honor of my former co-workers, who’ve been gravely neglected lately, I’m posting this You Tube video called LOLCATS (sorry, current co-workers who can’t view this).
Boy, do I miss public relations and marketing for felines.
I hope you sense the sarcasm. Or else you may think I’m kidding. But I’m not. Seriously, I’m not.
I know you are all clawing your eyes out over the fact that yesterday there was no, GASP, Space Camp picture of the week. Please, dry your eyes, faithful readers. All three of you must get a grip. Yesterday was a bit manic, but I promise Space Camp Thursday will be back with avengence next week. And yes, I do have enough Space Camp pictures to keep us swimming in control gyroscopes until at least 2008. Never fear!
I’m starting to think this site has turned into a place where I just flaunt my tendancy to be a bit on the dorky side. It never used to be like this, was it? I seem to remember a time when I actually had intelligent opinions and funny stories. Now it’s all about Space Camp and Harry Potter. Trent mentioned to me yesterday that we were possibly the geekiest couple on the planet, him with his Quake t-shirt and me in my Harry Potter tee, both almost reflectively white as if we haven’t left the house in a few weeks. Lucy tends to walk (toddle) 5 feet in front of us in public places, muttering incoherent baby talk the entire way. “Freaking dork-ass parents. God, I hope no one notices we’re together. For the love of all things holy, Mother, please take a shower and stop talking about Zac Efron. People are staring!”
Sorry, Lucy. I’m taking the road less traveled. And it’s making all the difference.
Oh, I’m sorry. I just passed out.
And no, I did not draw that “stuff” on his face. I would never defile Troy Bolton like that. Perez Hilton did it, bastard. And, as previously mentioned, I can’t get another picture because of the “Entertainment” blockers on my work Internet. Bastards.
I may have been mentioning these strange obsessions a bit too much at work. Co-workers are starting to drop subtle hints.
Like buying a large High School Musical 2 poster and hanging it up in my cube. Dude, I’m totally getting a promotion. I mean, could there be anyone more professional than me?
Or no. Quite possibly the answer is a very resounding no, as I cannot think of anything remotely worth reading to write about today. I don’t feel like writing about how I finally bathed my dog, and how she is now cowaring from me in the corner of the house. I don’t feel like writing about my husband’s new idea that married couples should have sex at least 4 times a week. Wait, he’s downed the number to 3. Now I feel as if I’m in some kind of auction. I don’t feel like writing about how I’m bored at work, even though the work is pretty interesting, I just can’t get motivated. I don’t feel like writing about how overwhelmed I am with all of my new ideas for freelance work and for this very site. I don’t even feel like writing about Lucy, even though she is obviously the coolest and most awesome kid on the planet. I don’t feel like writing about the fact that I’ve realized my iPod playlist is extremely random and insanely lame (first The Donnas, then Britney Spears, then Cat Power, then BRMC, then Duran Duran, then Dishwalla….who the hell listens to Diswalla?!).
Lately I’ve been looking around the Interweb trying to find some new places to peak my curiousity a little bit and get me motivated to keep trucking along with this site. Although I’m very thankful to have this outlet, sometimes I just don’t feel like spewing anything out into the world. Sometimes the world can do with less spew.
But the world can never have enough cupcakes. Which, for some reason, I really need today. So for all of you local readers, here’s a tip. You must check out Baby Cakes over in the River Market. And when I say “must” I mean “MUST!”
Don’t believe me? Check these suckers out:
Gormet cupcakes? Now that is something to write about!
