Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Road Rage in the Afternoon

I'm always happy to go out into the traffic after work because, people are so nice when I'm driving out of the parking lot. They always let me cut in front of them and everyone mouths 'thank you's' and waves. And, as I'm driving away from the parking lot, in my brief happy stupor, I always forget how incredibly STUPID and just plain inefficient people are behind the wheel.

I live 15 minutes away from the place I work. Every day I get out on the road, determined to make it home in 15 minutes, but NO! People  have to stop at red lights, at stop signs and for, get this, pedestrians! Who stops for pedestrians anymore?
How many times will you have to stop to feel fulfilled, you monsters?!? Isn't it ever enough for you!?

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Yuck.

I'm craving chocolate.
I curse you, impending period...I curse you.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Hairy situation...


I shaved my legs today out of worry that I may get in a car accident and only break a leg.
If I broke other things, I'm sure I would be unconscious or at least in enough pain that I wouldn't care if my legs look like I had been harvesting a medium sized forest on them for the last month and a half. However, if I only broke A leg, I would be mortified if someone actually saw my forest. I imagine they would have to shave around the wound to sew it back up.


Ena, her husband Jeff, and I are also making fish tacos tonight. I'm sure E. will blog about it [she loves blogging about food stuffs] but first, I must brag about making guacamole from scratch! 

This is the scratch.


This is the very garlicky and oniony guac!

Not bad for an Eastern European who was afraid to try guacamole for a whole decade because it resembled sick child's boogers, eh?!



OH, and yeah, I start my new job on the 16th of next month. HIP HIP HOORAY!

PEAS.

Just realized that the acronym for my blog is Puppy Ears As Souvenirs.
What?!
That's absolutely blog-worthy. Don't judge me you bastards.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

This post took me 200 seconds to write...

Why do parents refer to their young children's ages in a month form? And exactly when does that get converted to years? You never hear anyone saying,
"Oh, my little tyke is 82 months now. He's real chatty." "Yeah, just wait 'till they get to that dreaded 142nd month...they turn into little bastards."

This conversion just seems to kind of happen in the secret circles of parenthood and those of us who don't have the membership are left scratching our heads.

Friday, October 16, 2009

I remember now

...why I liked this book when I first read it. That and the hot romance and crazy women locked in the attic.


"It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquillity: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex."
-Charlotte Bronte, "Jane Eyre"

Monday, May 18, 2009

Bridget Jones' Diary

I watched "The Edge of Reason" last night. I love Bridget Jones, so in the spirit of Jones:





Year: 2009
Boyfriends: 0
Jobs: 1 1/2
Job Interviews: 0

Flats: 0
Moneys: 0

Okay. I just graduated [two days ago] and now I'm the post-college rut. How long is this supposed to last?
My boyfriend of almost three years couldn't wait to get out of the relationship [what, did I pass gas too much?] and I can't find a job to save my life. I am not under any circumstances going to sell insurance. I will not get sucked into mediocrity.

Bring it on LIFE! Bring...it...on.
[please be gentle]