I just want to travel now.
Love that this guy was able to rhyme something with quinoa.
WTF?
So glad Wednesday is over.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Top 6: Things I've Learned About Myself Since Starting Grad School
As I am about to embark on my second year of grad school, I have done a lot of reflection on what I have learned thus far. Now, of course I have been immersed in the academic literature that so eloquently conveys the horror that is our social system, in addition to the steps we as social work warriors will take to conquer said horrors (dramatic, I know) - but what I am talking about here is what I have learned about myself.
Cheers to another year of circle sitting, booger picking, sex talk, class!
Top 6: Things I've Learned About Myself Since Starting Grad School
1) I get super nervous when introducing myself to large groups. I thought I got over this in my undergrad, but apparently not. I don’t even listen to who is before me; as I am too busy practicing what I am going to say. I always eff it up.
2) I loathe sitting in circles. Every. Single. Class. Requires us to sit in a damn circle. Everyone can see you! At all times! I get zero sitting privacy!
3) I can never correctly spell ‘privilege’ the first time. I mix I’s with E’s and the reverse…
4) I rock APA. Thank goodness I worked at the Writing Center!
5) I get awkward and uncomfortable when people blow their nose while talking to me. This happens to me far too often. Do I look away and give them their privacy? Or do I continue with the conversation and risk the chance I’ll have to tell them they missed something… You know, like a booger?
6) When I am tired of discussing micro/mezzo/macro social work – I find relief in discussing sex. I don’t know what it is, but whenever I am just DONE talking about the social worky stuff, something crazy inappropriate will come out of my mouth. Luckily, I have class with girls who also lack a filter.
Cheers to another year of circle sitting, booger picking, sex talk, class!
Monday, September 26, 2011
San Juan Islands
 |
In a continued anniversary celebration, we took a trip to the San Juan Islands. The weather was perfect, and the views were absolutely stunning. This was a great way to spend my last "free" weekend before school starts!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
DADT Repeal
Today, President Obama ended the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy. This policy has been in place for 18 years and has forced 14, 500 members of the U.S. Military to be discharged because they were thought to be gay, lesbian or bi-sexual. To say that someone cannot express who they really are for fear of losing their job would be unconstitutional, so why has it been okay for our Congress and Military to uphold such a policy? Today, the United States has made another step towards equity for all. All I have to say is: It's about fucking time.
In recent months I have spoken to my Father and Step-Mother regarding this policy, both having served in the Army for over 20 years. To my surprise and disappointment, they were in full support of such a policy. I believe my Father's exact words were, "Gays don't belong in the Military. We don't need them." Hearing my father say that broke my heart. How could I have such a hateful father? He explained that having gay people in the Military would only cause problems. He continued on to say the most ignorant statement of them all: "I wouldn't want a gay guy in my bunk." Calm yourself Pops, I don't think a gay guy would want you either.
The other piece to this heartbreak is something that I have never told my Father (and by continuing on, I am risking the chance that my father or step-mother read my blog): Dad, I'm Bi-sexual. Meaning, I like girls too.
I am currently in a relationship with a boy. However, I have always been attracted to girls. Not only am I attracted to girls, but I have even been in relationships with girls. Over the past few years I have struggled to grip this "identity" because of the repercussions of "coming out". I could go deeper into this, but my "coming out" story isn't the point. My point is: if I were in the Military, I would not have been able to be openly express who I am, or who I love. Everyday I would be fearful of being "found out" and without any just cause, discharged. How would you feel about that, Dad? Your own daughter? Would you feel any different?
Regardless… thousands of lives have been changed today. Thousands of pounds of weight have been lifted off the shoulders of men and women serving our country. Imagine. These men and women, like my father and step-mother (who live so peacefully in their heterosexual relationship) can take in their own breath of freedom.
The irony in it all? To some, the scariest thing isn't grabbing a rifle and stepping into battle. The scariest thought might be opening up to their family, friends and colleagues. The repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" has given the courage and the civil right to do so.
It's about fucking time.
In recent months I have spoken to my Father and Step-Mother regarding this policy, both having served in the Army for over 20 years. To my surprise and disappointment, they were in full support of such a policy. I believe my Father's exact words were, "Gays don't belong in the Military. We don't need them." Hearing my father say that broke my heart. How could I have such a hateful father? He explained that having gay people in the Military would only cause problems. He continued on to say the most ignorant statement of them all: "I wouldn't want a gay guy in my bunk." Calm yourself Pops, I don't think a gay guy would want you either.
The other piece to this heartbreak is something that I have never told my Father (and by continuing on, I am risking the chance that my father or step-mother read my blog): Dad, I'm Bi-sexual. Meaning, I like girls too.
I am currently in a relationship with a boy. However, I have always been attracted to girls. Not only am I attracted to girls, but I have even been in relationships with girls. Over the past few years I have struggled to grip this "identity" because of the repercussions of "coming out". I could go deeper into this, but my "coming out" story isn't the point. My point is: if I were in the Military, I would not have been able to be openly express who I am, or who I love. Everyday I would be fearful of being "found out" and without any just cause, discharged. How would you feel about that, Dad? Your own daughter? Would you feel any different?
Regardless… thousands of lives have been changed today. Thousands of pounds of weight have been lifted off the shoulders of men and women serving our country. Imagine. These men and women, like my father and step-mother (who live so peacefully in their heterosexual relationship) can take in their own breath of freedom.
The irony in it all? To some, the scariest thing isn't grabbing a rifle and stepping into battle. The scariest thought might be opening up to their family, friends and colleagues. The repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" has given the courage and the civil right to do so.
It's about fucking time.
He's been posting YouTube videos for 5 months talking about his coming out experience in the military... but he finally shows his face yesterday and comes out to his Dad live, after news that "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" officially ended.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Go Bananas
I've been in a baking frenzy lately. The changing of the seasons must be channeling my inner Martha Stewart and I am all about baked goods! With that said… here is the latest deliciousness.
Cream Cheese Banana Bread
BREAD
3 cups all-purpose flour 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 3/4 cup butter, softened 8 ounces cream cheese, softened 2 cups granulated sugar 2 large eggs 1 & 1/2 cups mashed bananas (about 4 medium bananas) 1 cup chopped pecans, toasted 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract | Preheat oven to 350°. Grease and flour two 8″x 4″ loaf pans. Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside. Using an electric mixer, beat together butter and cream cheese until creamy. Gradually add sugar, mixing until light and fluffy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, mixing just until blended. Gradually add flour mixture to butter mixture, beating at low speed until blended. Stir in bananas, pecans, and vanilla extract.  Divide batter evenly and spoon into prepared loaf pans. |
TOPPING
1/2 cup packed brown sugar 1/2 cup chopped pecans, toasted 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour 1 tablespoon melted butter 1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon | Combine all ingredients in a small bowl. Sprinkle evenly over batter in both loaf pans. Bake for 1 hour, or until a wooden pick inserted in the center comes out clean. If necessary, cover pans loosely with aluminum foil for the last 15 minutes to prevent excess browning. Cool bread in pans on wire racks for 10 minutes. Remove from pans to wire racks to cool completely.  |
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Top 6: A Weekend in Photos
This weekend was amazingly relaxing. These are my Top 6 highlights:
1) Bouquet of flowers from the Farmer's Market on Saturday. Five bucks isn't too shabby.
2) Theo, taking an afternoon nap. Being a dog is so exhausting.
3) Noah enjoying his new chair (Anniversary gift).
4) Theo, chewing on a stick (kind of self explanatory) at Noah's baseball game.
5) Me, lounging while watching Sunday football.
6) A fridge full of groceries. Our fridge was pretty bare, feels good to have food!
Now, I am preparing for the week ahead. Bring it on Monday!
Friday, September 16, 2011
Mental Health: Systemic Gaps
This video is a fascinating and unfortunately accurate depiction of how people with mental illness “trickle through the system”. I am frequently asked why I want to do what I do. “Why would you want to work with criminals?” “Why do you want to work with the ‘crazies’?” Well folks, if you have an hour… watch this video and you’ll understand why: there is so much to be done.
“The mental health system is and of itself, the definition of insanity.”
“We’ve got a healthcare system that isn’t attentive to mental illness, it likes physical illness. We like to rescue, not prevent.”
“The ER has become a hospital for the poor.”
“Judges are more likely to see people with mental illness than psychiatrists.”
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Actual Craigslist Ad
Yoga mat for sale. Used once. - $1 (Bellevue)
Date: 2011-09-13, 10:32PM PDT
Reply to: sale-cbz7z-2597736393@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
Yoga mat for sale. Used once at lunch hour class in December 2009. Usage timeline as follows:
11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.
11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.
11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.
11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.
11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don't exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.
12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.
12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.
12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other's body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don't worry, I'll mention them later.)
12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.
12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I'm in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, "for better or worse" is what we committed to so we press on.
12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.
12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.
12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.
12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?
1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don't get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!
1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed.
I lose consciousness.
1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can't really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.
1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it's voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It's like juice and cracker time, ok?
1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?
1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and 'cool down' in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.
1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level - probably by 15 degrees. So let's conservatively say it's 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.
1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day's turmoil and mental scaring.
1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein -- effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.
3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the "shakes" consume my body.
4:29p
Note to self - check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.
11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.
11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.
11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.
11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.
11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don't exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.
12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.
12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.
12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other's body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don't worry, I'll mention them later.)
12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.
12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I'm in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, "for better or worse" is what we committed to so we press on.
12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.
12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.
12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.
12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?
1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don't get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!
1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed.
I lose consciousness.
1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can't really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.
1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it's voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It's like juice and cracker time, ok?
1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?
1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and 'cool down' in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.
1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level - probably by 15 degrees. So let's conservatively say it's 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.
1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day's turmoil and mental scaring.
1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein -- effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.
3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the "shakes" consume my body.
4:29p
Note to self - check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.
Hilarious, right? I want to meet this guy!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Three Years
He's the boy who always gave me butterflies, but I never knew why. I loved his smile, his laugh, and that certain way he looked at me.
While parting ways one night, we hugged and without any hesitation I kissed him on the cheek. That night I received a message: he liked the kiss.
He asked if I wanted to take a walk. We walked to the bridge high above the treetops. We talked by the light of the moon. He held my hand while laying under the stars. He kissed me until early morning.
Our first date he made me vegetarian lasagna. He was nervous; it was delicious. Our conversations were honest and open. My stomach doing flips. He's so wonderful.
"I'm afraid I'll fall for you," I said. "Don't worry, I'll always catch you,"he said.
Notes left on the pillow. Surprise gifts. Doors held open. Kisses on the forehead. Movies. Basketball games.Trips to the coast. Morning coffee.
Lunch dates. Dinner plans.
On his bed we sat, holding hands. Both nervous. Those three words have never meant more to me.
Three years later, he still gives me butterflies and the "I love you's" are even stronger.
Noah, I adore you.
The song he wooed me with 3 years ago. :)
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Hot to Cool
I know we got a late start to Summer, but I am ready for Fall. While I love my pretty Summer dresses, I feel most comfortable in a pair of jeans and a sweater. I love the smells of cinnamon and spices, picking pumpkins, and crunching through leaves. I am tired of being too hot to sleep. I want to cuddle under my comforter and sit by the fire.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
What's Inside: My Cubicle
Unfortunately, a majority of my day is spent inside of a box. People in my office like to call it, "Cube Land". I like to call it hell. To get through my day in "cube land" AKA hell, I surround myself with objects that I love and enjoy. Here is what I keep inside my cube.
As you can see: I have a mess of papers. My bamboo. Pilates ball (great for posture). Peace flags. Pictures of the pup, friends, and the boy. In the red bottle is sand from Lincoln City (a little piece of home). A little art work- a painting I did for my final project in my 'Healthy Relationships' class. The giraffe was a gift from my fabulous friend Melinda, and a sexy picture of Eva Mendes (rarr). Ignore the mess of files. Next we have my five favorite items: Tree Hugger coffee mug, Pittsburg Steelers Post-Its, Obama bobble-head (everyone needs one of these), pink Buddha, and my giraffe dish that holds all my paperclips. Lastly is my Monk-on-a-coil that sits on top of one of my walls. My co-workers like to make him bounce as they pass by.Oh, and behind him is my awesome plant, my giraffe (like giraffes much?) and my business cards, 'cause I am super fancy.
Hey, if you spend 40 hours a week in a 12x10 Cube - might at well make it your own, right?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Super Suck Sunday (On a Monday)
Super
Sucks
- Although I am nervous about starting my second year of school, I am overly excited for my classes this Fall. I think they will be amazing!
- Finding a new recipe - thanks to my obsession with bloggers. I found the recipe at this site. They're called 'Individual Raspberry Cobblers', but the boy said they look more like Raspberry Volcanoes. My first batch is currently in the oven. YUM!
- The weather man says it is supposed to be 80 degrees and higher all week. Oh my goodness! That means no excuse for not biking to work!
- This goes without saying - but I must say it: A three day weekend! Woohoo! It was absolutely fabulous! We got to stay up late, we got to sleep in. We went to the Fair, we went for a hike, we went for walks and enjoyed ice cream in the sunshine… it couldn't have been better.
 |
| I had never ridden a Farris Wheel before, and I always dreamed of kissing a boy on one. |
 |
| A picture of the view, and finally, my dream came true. |
 |
| This is where we hiked to. A 2.5 mile RT hike to the Puget Sound. |
 |
| Theo, enjoying the beach. |
 |
| Licking my glasses? Seriously? |
Sucks
- Well, obviously getting your glasses licked by a pup isn't too super. But almost losing your glasses while upside down on a Fair ride… well, that sucked.
- Having to call 911 for a client in crisis.
- Going into a stall that already has a toilet seat cover on it. Gross. Honestly, I usually just turn around and pick another stall. I like to make my own nest, thank you.
- When you forget to grab a towel before getting into the shower. The only thing you can do is walk your wet naked ass to the linen closet…sucks.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Superbly Random
Looks like I need to get Theo a surfboard!
And then there’s this:
Besides the obvious humor behind a vegetarian’s enjoyment of cunnilingus and/or fellatio…there are some interesting facts regarding the benefits of vegetarianism.
All I can really say is… now it all makes sense…
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