Serving as an example for small children

So I went to Disneyland this weekend (I have a pass now! I can go whenever I want! I love Southern California!). We decided to go on Splash Mountain. My friend ducked out because she didn't like the drop and she thought we were going to get wet. The two of us going on the ride said she was being ridiculous.

She was right.

I was dripping at the end of it. The people behind me in the next line made some snide comment, so I responded and we chatted a little. When I turned around, my dry friend told me that some mother had passed us, pointed at me, and said, "See that lady? That's why you can't go on Splash Mountain," to her kids.

So I have found my true calling in life: being an example of what not to do at theme parks.

We're on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know

Last week I remembered why I don't tell my parents everything. It's not because I'm not trying to be devious or untruthful. I just learned at a young age that there are certain things they just don't need to know.

Example A: Conversation with Dad 1
Dad: Doing anything this weekend?
Me: I'm going to a Pat Monahan concert.
Dad: Who?
Me: Most people haven't heard of him. He's the lead singer of Train.
Dad: Who?
Me: Drops of Jupiter? Meet Virginia?
Dad: Trains go on tracks and go "toot-toot."
This is the mild version of my parental editing: they just don't understand sometimes.

Example B: Conversation with Dad 2
Dad: So how was the concert?
Me: It was really fun. I enjoyed the House of Blues.
Dad: Why's that?
Me: It's standing room only, everyone just packed in with everyone.
Dad: What if there was a fire? An emergency?
Me: There were exits.
Dad: Well, you said standing room only...
Me: I just meant there weren't chairs. It was a big hall.
This is the main reason: they worry.

I also remembered why I don't really tell my parents about boys I like, my eating habits, and how much sleep I get. They worry. And when they worry, I worry about worrying them. So why tell them?

I had an absolutely fabulous weekend hanging out with my sister. My one complaint was the snow. In SEPTEMBER.

And people wonder why I moved to Southern California.


Today it took me 50 minutes to go 3.3 miles because some idiot stole a car and turned the road I needed to be on into a police scene.

And people wonder why I don't want to live in Southern California forever.

She's not afriad, she just likes to use a night light

So I was punching holes in a document today, listening to music and generally pretending the rest of the world wasn't there. I punched one set and turned to put it in my done pile. And then there was a spider in my face. A real one. I screamed like a little girl. Luckily I am a girl, or that could have been really embarrassing.

Girls don't like boys, girls like cars and money

So we were talking at lunch the other day about our "office move" next year. This move makes most people happy, for we will be much closer to where they live. It makes me unhappy because it will be farther away from where I live (I realize that it's not that far, but when it only takes you 10 minutes to get to work every day, another 10 doubles your commute time). And now that they've got the temperature figured out (turns out the vent wasn't attached to the thermostat so it just blew full blast all the time), I rather like our current office.

I groaned dramatically, so everyone at the table decided to convince me that this move will be a good thing.

"You can go shopping at the Spectrum!"
Great. Target will get an even bigger cut of my paycheck.

"You can eat at Panera!"
Isn't my current visit every Friday at lunch good enough?

But my favorite was this: "There are boys there!"
I had no witty reply to this. I had to give up and just laugh.

So if I end up moving in a year, you'll know why. It's because of the boys.

Things I learned today...

1. In the Constitution, it's "unalienable," not "inalienable," when talking about Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.

2. A package of Twizlers Nibs is not a part of a balanced breakfast.

3. Calling your coworker a "grumpy old man" at 8:30 in the morning is a bad idea. (He gives me crap about being young, so we're even. . . usually.)

4. Target doesn't sell the cool windowshades that I have in my car anymore.

5. A 19-year-old boy knows a lot more about suffering than I do, yet he has a better attitude about it.

6. My knee still hates me.

7. Tomatoes are actually pretty good in sandwiches and such(don't tell my mom about that one).

What's cooler than bein' cool?

This weekend was on the warm side. To the point that I took myself to see Pirates of the Caribbean 3 over Ocean's 13 because it meant 3 hours in an air conditioned theater rather than just 2 (it also conveniently kept me out until the house party I was trying to avoid ended). To the point that I spent a good portion of Monday in a pool/in a wet swimming suit because it was cooler. To the point that I was looking forward to returning to work because it's usually cold in my office.
Unfortunately, my office was rather warm when I entered Tuesday morning. We actually went outside to cool down at lunch. Wednesday it had cooled down again; I made good use of the sweatshirt I keep on the back of my chair for just such an occasion.
Today my office was an ice box. Since I refuse to wear thermals and sweaters in summer, we found an alternative.


Two large manila envelopes, packing tape, and a tall coworker, and voila! Our very own air deflector, sure to last at least a few months, at which point we'll be tearing it down to let the heat in because we're cold.