Cirque Du SolErin

Morning Musings

2011-02-04T10:06:00.000-08:00

Who is supposed to get out of bed when you wake up and see this first?

So, I didn't.

Instead i thought of the chocolate cake I baked in the blizzard with my mom:

Maybe I just ate the batter.

The Blizzard of Oz

2011-02-03T08:35:00.000-08:00

Airport saga of a lifetime.

Okay that's most likely a lie. I'm sure other people have recounted many more perilous tales than the one I'm about to spin, but I'm telling you, this was a doozie.

I'm scheduled to fly from St. Louis back to Orlando this past Monday after a whirlwind and lovely (not to mention frigid) long weekend of wedding planning (not mine) and family bonding. But hark, is that foul weather afoot? As you can guess, my 6:30 flight was cancelled as I watched disaster officials hold a press conference about battoning down the hatches in the Gateway City. So I got on another flight, which coincidentally rendezvoused in Kansas City, my hometown. Safe enough, right? If I get stuck in KC, at least I'll be home. I knew as soon as I texted the famous last words "I'll text you from KC," I was setting myself up for disaster.

The 45 minute flight across Missouri was smooth and relief set in as we began our descent.

"Ding!"

"Ladies and Gentleman, due to the inclement weather, we've actually been diverted to Tulsa, so we're gonna go ahead and land there because we don't have enough fuel to circle the airfield..."

Oh sh!t. I've never been stranded somewhere in the country before. But if Kevin McCallister could do it, so could I.

We land without a problem and flood into the terminal, all 150 angry and confused passengers scrambling to the same three ticketing agents who are just as confused as we are, except with plastered smiles.

I stood around for awhile, sporting my prairie print dress peaking out underneath a plaid pea coat (alliteration much?), with my Pepto-pink carryon and purple dinosaur skin shoulder bag. At least I'm exuding some style to mask my confusion and despair.

I sat for awhile, munching on the cinder-block sized bag of Velvet Creme popcorn while envious hungry passengers made jokes about sharing. Not a chance, sir.

I rolled up and down the terminal for awhile, the carryon equivalent to pacing, out of sheer boredom, to and from the Great American Bagel Company stand. But the line was too long and I was afraid of missing crucial information about where to scramble next.

At this point my options are bleak: get a hotel in Tulsa, but the airport was shut down for the next day, get on a flight to Dallas, get a hotel and fly to Orlando on the next flight that was open, or wait to see if we could refuel and get back to Kansas City. Maybe I'm passive, but I opted to wait.

Then a tiny miracle happened. An announcement was proclaimed that two flights were heading back to Kansas City while one flight was proceeding to Orlando! Great God of Moses, we're saved!!!

That was my cue to take action. I got the first boarding ticket to get on the plane to Otown, forfeiting my spot on the first Kansas City flight, got myself an asiago cheese bagel, and took a comfy row on the 747 in a whole leather row to myself. Ah, sweet relief and bliss as I reassured my family that I was headed back safe, the "all clear" for Dad to take his drowsy allergy medication.

"Ding!"

The chime of despair. The plan fell through and although the handful of passengers aboard the aircraft was situated and content to fly south, the powers that be still had us grounded due to lack of business interest. Inner panic ensued, but only after I literally waited for the stewardess to say she was joking. You know how SouthWest can be.

Packed up again, I rushed back up yet another jetway and back to the ticket counter, remarkably empty. Why? Because everyone else had boarded the plane back to KC, in my spot. If only I had someone to proclaim my undying love to, this would be a perfect place to say "STOP THAT PLANE!" or something dramatic, but TSA isn't keen on disruptions these days.

I peeked my head above the ticketing counter, which came up to my chin and ask the frazzled woman "Can I go back to Kansas City? My parents live there." To which she replied "Oh, that's great! Do they want company?" and gestured to an even more frazzled young Indian family of four whom I recognized from every plane I had boarded that day who had no choice but to go to Kansas City with the rest of us. But she was joking. Awkward for all of us.

Once again, I snagged the first boarding pass for this next flight. I was going back to KC, that is, if our flight crew shows up and we have enough passengers and the weather doesn't freeze our plane and there's enough of a flight crew...

Well, things fell into place and I flew home at 1:00 in the am to an antihistamine fogged father. Good to be back for a surprise vacation, all thanks to the Blizzard of Oz.

Moral of the story, make sure you have ALL of your belongings before angrily exiting a plane after an easy flight to your final destination has been canceled. And if you see my iPod tucked in a SouthWest seat back pocket, send it my way.

Digital addition

2010-11-16T11:03:00.000-08:00

I invested in a new MacBook Pro!

Look at this wonderfully digitally altered picture of myself thinking of all the wonderful things I can do with my new computer!

Quote Unquote

2010-11-16T10:39:00.000-08:00

People have been saying funny things around me as of late. I kept them in my rolodex of funny to share here:

"Every seagull is Jewish."

"We're just like you, only prettier."

"Boopy Hurthday."

"I just calmly and respectfully said very hateful things to her."

"Leaving the flask......was a bad idea"

"I do NOT miss smoking in restaurants. I walked in and I was like 'Omigod, I have to wash my jeans.'"

"You can tell who the actors are cuz they know how to hold plates."

"Marriage is about love,"...."or a green card..."

"I can't do this math. I don't live in a grocery store."

American Pie

2010-07-27T20:32:00.001-07:00

So I had a whirlwind two days at home this past weekend and I managed to squeeze in a little exploring with my Hipstamatic and found some things I may send into National Geographic....

A "sleeping" dog statue

A tiny handmade clay village

A mouse, just hangin out...

A farm band

A backyard prince

The biggest crap game ever

Money just blowing in the wind.

A "me" sized koala

Creepy doll wearing a headband...naturally.

A duck phone.

And Dick Van Dyke.

Nostalgia is fun. And hilarious when you live in what could be considered a flea market by some.

#1 Stunner

2010-07-27T20:21:00.001-07:00

I've realized I'm at my best when I first wake up, looking like a #1 Stunner. So I documented a week's worth of early bird dazzling hairdos that you may or may not want to sport to your next formal occasion.

The Emo.

The Don King

The Dust Bowl

The Edward Scissorhands

The Rugrats

The Cyndi Lauper

The Divine Halo

It's okay if you're jealous.

Yep

2010-07-06T10:43:00.001-07:00

Things could be worse...

Happy
Summer

;)

Snaps in poetry corner

2010-06-12T22:08:00.001-07:00

Ink a horoscope inside my wrist to
Advise me, remind me, perscribe me the astral counsel to
Trust.
Here's hoping my veins absorb the message
While my feet tread and trod and traipse and
Twirl.
Size six kicks up sticks and dust that must mean a path is being made and laid and obeyed.
And you couldn't promise
And you were too honest
And you weren't modest
And you all inked a horoscope in me as a gift for me to sift and lift after I set you
Adrift.

Snaps if you feel it!

Fashion. Put it all on me.

2010-06-03T23:03:00.001-07:00

You know how Ke$ha wakes up every morning feeling like P. Diddy? Well after I fell asleep last night with wet hair, I woke up this morning feeling like Bob Dylan. After pondering whether or not I could pull off the look, I began pondering what other looks I could pull off and before I knew it, I had a bathroom fashion show. Sponsored by Mercedes-Benz.

A t-shirt that visited the tshirt doctor with coordinating mini and headband.

A 1940's inspired beach outfit, complete with driving gloves. (Thank you, Bry muffin) Fitness tip: The higher the waist of the skirt, the less crunches required...

Bird girl. This look is inspired by feathers...and turning a skirt into a top.

Is that a powerful and seductive Grecian goddess or just an ingeniusly wrapped H&M scarf? I'll never tell.

Where is my beautiful grape-feeding slave man?!

Oops, this'll do.

Ghetto-faaaaab. Yes, that's my hair. And yes, those are my...

So I know what you're thinking. And yes, I guess this IS what I do in my free time. And NO I didn't go about my day with Bob Dylan hair. But now I know I have options.

Prequel

2010-05-22T08:55:00.000-07:00

Here's a follow up/prequel to Jessica's Daily affirmation.

Again, let's take a lesson and live each day like little Jessica, who apparently is a tween now. But whatever, I'm 25, and I still love a good pillow bomb. ;)

Remember When...

2010-05-21T13:35:00.000-07:00

Confidence came this easily?

I'm gonna try and begin each new day on my bathroom countertop like this. You should too.

Space Day #3

2010-05-20T21:47:00.000-07:00

I mean, I know my job can be pretty cool, but I don't get to do this:

Rocket into outer space, that is.

Whisper...

2010-05-20T21:43:00.001-07:00

A little secret to me...or post it on the Internet in front of everyone's faces. Either/or.
I haven't posted about PostSecret's Sunday Secrets in ages, but what better time than on a random Thursday? Here are the gems from this week, and my accompanying witty banter:

I'm sorry, I confused this one with a fortune cookie. My b.

I'm a huge supporter of leggings, I wore some today actually, but some ill-fitting leggings do allude nudity. Not the point.

Is this referring to the idiot that illustrated this postcard? I'm not getting it. Regardless, this is sound advice.

This is called compassion. Or your average theme park people watching experience.

Hell, I pretend people fall in love with ME! I had three imaginary boyfriends at work today. But then I got tired of imaginary serial dating and wanted to settle down...

If JK Rowling can do it in 7 books, so can you.

My secret:
I think my cat judges my outfits. If I ask her if she likes it and she doesn't immediately meow in an upglide, I feel like I have to change.

Never Sleeps...

2010-05-12T17:42:00.001-07:00

I was recently lucky enough to steal away to one of my favorite places on Earth, New York City. I ventured, planning simply on seeing friends, hitting up a few auditions, and maybe catching a show or two. I did just that and more. But I was naiive enough to discount the city planning things for me. She was kind enough to catch me in the rain, reveal a few celebrity sightings, trap me on the D train during a bomb threat, spin me around on a sexy pole, feed me the best cookie of my life, solicit career advice on a West Side balcony, reconnect me with some damn important people, throw me in a no joke subway fight, and woo me with poetry in a hidden Central Park garden.

I really couldn't be naiive enough now to say all this happened by chance.

So I kept a journal on my phone of things I've learned. I'd like to share them with the blogosphere. Take it or leave it:

No one always looks cool. We all mess up the stupid shit. Aka, rolling luggage is still hard to handle no matter the designer.

You don't have to do New York alone. There's abjillion other people doing it too.
But it can feel oddly lonely sometimes.

There's always someone wierder than you.

The city will turn in a split second. Heed who you sit next to on the train and respect their invisible bubble.

People still get nervous at auditions.

It's hard. It's expensive. It'll kick your ass if you're not quick enough to get out the way.

Thugish looking people can be nice. And nice looking people can be thugish.

Everyone at auditions can sing well...for the most part. But not everyone can bring the IT factor that you have.

A backpack is not a bad idea.

Every day works out.

So overall, the pilgrimage was all I was searching for and more. And I'm still astonished at how I was so meant to be there that week. Not just for me, but for other people. It's a scary and beautiful place to have your own place.

Oh yeah, and this guy has jazz hands in New York City... Figures.

Ps, Happy 100th post to me :) I think I used it well.

LOG 5

2010-03-28T20:59:00.001-07:00

Salutations to you, my followers of past and present. Allow me to begin this log entry by expressing my embarrassment for not posting my escape efforts and progress for over a year. I would be happy to report that my keeper has kept a strict sentry on me, cutting me off from the computer, but that would be a lie.
To avoid an extremely long-winded post, I'll touch on the highlights:
We've since moved into a new dwelling. It's more spacious and double layered, allowing me a greater arena for running, pouncing, hiding, etc. I challenge Medusa to a race up the stairs on a daily basis. I always win, naturally. She is slow and pitifully un-agile in comparison. But I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that. I've also taken up permanent camp in the bathroom sink. It's comfortable.

Another upgraded feature of the new captivity, aside from granite elevated countertops, is the screened in lanai. I spend the majority of my time here, studying the wildlife (well, OTHER wildlife, besides me) and expanding my lungs in the fresh air. I wouldn't be surprised if I grew a new pair altogether.
Onto a more thrilling subject. After this suitcase escape attempt failed:

I knew riskier measures had to be taken, and I managed to escape for at least 2 minutes. I stealthily slithered out the front door into the mask of night when the flighty roommate was leaving one particular evening, and reached the bushes on the other side of the neighbor's house where I took sanctuary until Medusa lured me out with the word "treat". Fail. But this I know next time: when you have the obvious advantage, people will easily lie to you. Mind who you believe or you, too, could be shut in the laundry room for 15+ minutes.
On a positive note, I'm happy to report the feature film I'm starring in is doing very well at the box office, "How to Train Your Dragon".

It's an epic and heartwarming tale that sheds light on the souls and good nature of sorely misunderstood animals. It's a cause close to my heart. I think I'll look for more projects similar to this one in the future. I sent James Cameron my headshot, I think he'll be moved by animal rights soon enough.

CirqueDuSolERIN GO BRAUGH!

2010-03-11T12:59:00.001-08:00

That means: Luck of the CirqueDuSolIrish.

The day of 1/8 of my people is fast approaching, lads and lassies. I LOVE St. Patrick's Day! All you do is drink, wear green, and get kissed and pinched. Recipe for success.

The Envelope Please...

2010-03-10T18:10:00.001-08:00

There are few nights during the year that are magical to me. Oscar night is one of them. You know how sometimes if you watch makeover shows and you look in the mirror afterwards and you feel really dumpsoon comparison so next time it comes on, you make sure you look really good while you're watching it so you don't feel like you're elligible for next weeks episode? That's how I feel on Oscars night. Except I dress up to feel like I could be there next year. That's a lot of rambling to simply say "I love the Oscars"...
I'm not a lemming when I say I've always adored Sandra Bullock, ever since Practical Magic. Stop guffawing. So I'm so happy she won. And I didn't even see her performance. But that doesn't make me a wannabe.
There's just one thing that disappointed me a teeny tiny bit. It was the winner of Best Picture... or the loser, I should say... Here's who I think should've won:

Oops! How'd that happen?! I mean,

That's what I meant.

Your head looks boring...

2010-03-01T17:53:00.000-08:00

So put one of my HEADBANDS on it!

Look at me being all creative and enterpreneury! I have an online shop! I've made my own accessories for awhile, but why keep them all to myself? Now you, too, can look as cute and original as I do every day! You can also leave your modesty at the door as I do every day! Half kidding.

Everything is original, handmade, trendy, and kind of a deal, starting at just $10 bucks. Or buy something mass produced and look like everyone else, so.....

Seriously, though, spread the word, buy my headbands!

www.CirqueDuSolErin.etsy.com

Raise your torch!

2010-02-24T22:45:00.001-08:00

One thing that baffles me, aside from the popularity of crocs, is why I haven't posted anything about the olympics yet! I've given up almost my entire social life to just couch it with my snuggie and feel like I'm a part of something global in a positive way. There's nothing like good, friendly, respectful competition to bring people from unheard of parts of the globe together. Why don't, instead of war and suffering, we settle our political disagreements with a quick curling match? Or triple axels? It's wonderful, and I love how fervently I can root for someone I've only heard of five minutes ago in a sport I've had no desire to participate in. Everybody wins.
Since karaoke isn't an Olympic sport (yet), I probably won't make it to the games, unless one of the following happens:

1.) I marry Apolo Anton Ohno. After all, our initials are all vowels.

2.) A figure skater would hire me as a coach, taking my sock\hardwood floor technique very seriously.

3.) I become a mascot...but I like to think that phase of my life is ending. Know your worth...

In all seriousness, I would love to flock to the Games someday, as a spectator, of course. I'd be thrilled. Go for the gold...

Let's Play a Game

2010-02-18T14:42:00.001-08:00

It's called: Name that Space-Aged Neon Lit Place!

If you answered:
A.) a cruise ship restaurant
B.) a trendy house music club, featuring a glass gogo cage and perhaps an ice bar
or
C.) the USS Enterprise,

You'd be wrong.

Because it's my new old high school.

I didn't recognize it either.

Eat my powder!!!

2010-02-12T21:43:00.001-08:00

I mean snow, not crack cocaine.
So this may sound like complete and utter bullshit, but I went downhill skiing the other day...in Kansas, home of flat lands and flatter lands. About 20 years ago, some wannabe x-gamer found the only clump of not flat land and decided to make a "ski lodge" out of it, and use corn to make snow. How, you ask? I couldn't tell you. I would've used newspaper shavings or cat litter.
Nonetheless, adventurous Midwesterners now have a downhill sanctuary. And I do mean "hill". Not "mountain".

To prove how Xtreme I am now, here's a video of my mad skills. (Note: this felt a lot more impressive than it looks):

Did you see that guy almost plow me?! I'm happy to report that he fell immediately after he skiid offscreen.

But here's my crowning glory of the day:

Try THAT next time you're in Vail.

Open Wiiiiiiide!

2010-02-11T14:33:00.001-08:00

Odontophobia: fear of dental work.

Aichmophobia: fear of sharp objects

Pnigophobia: fear of choking....at the mercy of your mom.

Zero cavities.

It's okay, I actually have a lot of fun going to the dentist cuz it's just my mom.
I got a new purple toothbrush and a new purple pencil.
And some hilarious pictures.

I don't understand...

2010-02-09T19:31:00.001-08:00

Why every Chinese restaurant can't be as scrumptious as Fortune Wok in Overland Park, Kansas.

Sesame euphoria.

With aesthetically pleasing decorum.

Get it right, other places. Get it right.

I love...

2010-02-07T19:30:00.001-08:00

doing arts and crafts so Mom had a project for me to do at home! Valentine's Day decorations!

(which is funny because I swear off Valentine's Day every year, blah blah blah, and had just finished explaining that if I were to decorate this year, I was envisioning black construction paper hearts everywhere. Go fig. )

So during breakfast, I glitter painted hearts with things my family and I love, i.e. snowflakes, cupcakes, kittens, Snuggies, KU, and NASA.

And lucky for me, Mom never put away a christmas tree in the kitchen, so guess where they all went!

I took a nap right after. That's about all Cupid's bow could get out of me for now.

Click your heels three times...

2010-02-07T13:26:00.000-08:00

So I'm on vacation. And I came home to Kansas. And here's what's happened on my adventure so far:

First of all, the Starbucks at the Orlando Airport creatively changed the spelling of my name:

But I still drank it and flew home anyway.

And then I went straight to a University of Kansas basketball game and they won, which makes me happy that I didn't jinx them. But I felt obligated to take a picture with the mascot...cuz that's what I do:

I feel his pain.

So this morning I woke up and saw THIS:

SNOOOOOOW! And my elementary school outside my bedroom window. But that's not as notable as the snow.

So I ate some snow and washed it down with some breakfast while I did hearts and crafts:

Kansas is fun.

Ps, Daisy says HI

You know...

2010-01-29T13:25:00.001-08:00

When two people are perfect together.

Like Katherine and Dan.

I don't know who is happier for them, me or them.

Day: off

2010-01-25T19:38:00.001-08:00

I had a Morgan Freeman day. I sat calmly on a bench outside for almost two hours. I have no problem with that.

An ant crawled into my Starbucks and I may have swallowed it. I have a little problem with that.

Text me :)

A Christmas Story: American Pie

2009-12-27T20:30:00.000-08:00

I'm glad to report that I got my shopping done on time for my family to get here for Christmas! Yay! Just in time for the merriment to begin! Allow me to recap:

Dad got pulled into my HSM show. And stole it, I might add. Too bad the hat was too small for his head.

Then I forced them to dance in the rain in Block Party Bash. I really couldn't tell you what any of us are doing, but it's probably not original choreography.

Then they all met Sorcerer Mickey and his friends at Fantasmic! They were much more poised and eloquent than the last time they met characters, I must say.

So let me explain a family tradition:

At home on holidays, we all play a game with family and friends called "Shake of the Day" that involves a cup and five dice. Like Yahtzee, the object is to shake up the dice in the cup, and roll five of a kind. Except you put money in the pot to play, and put in more to get an extra roll. The good news is, if you get five of a kind, you get half of the money in the pot! I won twenty bucks on Easter of '09. It's very intense.

Well, since we weren't at home, we did our own SHAKE of the day...

Dad won.

The point of my story is, they brought Christmas. As crazy and exhausted as we all got, we didn't care as long as we kept eating and laughing. And we did.

Merry Christmas. May you laughter fill all the holes and drifts in your life, as it did in mine.

A Christmas Story: 12 Days of Africa

2009-12-21T22:06:00.000-08:00

I found more Christmas. This video illustrates how my brain waves go haywire this time of year. Watch, enjoy, and relate.

A Christmas Story: Miracle on Gilford Point Lane

2009-12-14T18:36:00.000-08:00

Last night, my roomies and I had a little Christmas pow wow before one of us (not me or Sara) swam away to sail around the world.

*find me in the ornament reflection*

Ansley got me this fancy wine glass with divas like me in chic outfits like me.

Sara got me this penis enlarger..........JUST KIDDING! It's a cookie press!

Look at all the cookies I can make! See how it pays to be friends with me?

Then Ansley bossed Chad around.

And we took a last roommate picture in front of the cardboard tv/fireplace mantle with ribbons on our heads.

Sofia thought we looked appalling.

Then we got drunk and passed out under the tree.

Then we woke up and we were stuck.

And we laughed about how funny Ansley's neck looks in the previous picture.

So we went back to sleep and waited for Santa....or Sofia.

I'm glad we took time out of our schedule of stress and packing to laugh for awhile. I found a little bit of Christmas by our front window...

Are you peacocking?...

2009-12-08T08:55:00.000-08:00

So I was eating my eggs and my toast this morning, using my pants as a napkin, and I realized how much I love peacocks.

I think they're the most gorgeous creatures that I wish I was, aside from a hippogriff.

They've been around since ancient chinese times, which means they're probably smarter than us.

Oops, someone forgot to color this one in.

I want this ceiling in my townhome RIGHT NOW.

And I want this dress on my twirling body RIGHT NOW.

Maybe I'll wait awhile to put this one on. But isn't it amazing???

text me :)

A Christmas Story: O Come, All Ye Humble

2009-12-04T17:08:00.001-08:00

I KNOW, CELINE!!! I KNOW!!!!!!

This time of year is particularly starshined because big time celebrities swoop into DisneyWorld from across the land and grace us with their talent. And they don't even need to lip sync...er......

Anyway, today "the greatest singer in all the world" came to sing to "all ye faithful" and so, Brycrasch and I waded through the rain to the lobby of the Grand Floridian. As a sternum beating singer myself, I knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Risers overflowed with robed choir members, cameras swung on dollies, rafters and balconies flooded with guests, glittered trees and giant wrapped boxes twinkled in rigged lighting, and I found myself wedged in a sardined crowd of people, the majority of which who towered over me, waiting for Celine Dion to float onstage and open her pipes to my anxious, humble soul. I had hopes for finding my "meaning of Christmas" through simply being in the presence of the superstar that belted the theme song to the movie that made me want to be an actor at 12 years old. Even if she didn't do anything, I knew that just having a brush with superstardom would've had me on a high for months. But the time clock at block party ticked away...

And I had to leave right before she came out.

I was very upset. After cursing my job for the thousandth time, and feeling injustice drown me in the rain, I realized that Celine Dion couldn't bring me Christmas this year. I'd have to keep searching for it.

Would've been cool though....

Thinspiration

2009-12-04T16:45:00.000-08:00

I had a wonderful night of THINspiration broadcast to me on television the other night. Let's recap.

I don't normally watch The Biggest Loser, but it absolutely THINspired me to see people who've overcome years of obesity and gotten their lives back. If they can do that, I can certainly drop a size or two.

THEN I watched the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show..... I don't think I need to explain myself.

But I love these wings.

So I got up and went to the gym the next day, balls to the walls.

Can you keep a secret?

I got emotional when Heidi took the catwalk. She's so iconic.

A Christmas Story: The Epiphany

2009-11-30T19:54:00.000-08:00

So after Scrooge-ing for as long as I could last year, and milking (or nogging, if I may) my "woe-is-me" attitude for all it was worth, which wasn't very much, I've decided to like Christmas this year. It actually took a lot of effort to make sure people knew I chose to Bah Humbug instead of enjoy my young adult Christmas. I'm over that.

I realized my need for a change on Thanksgiving, when a simple song ("Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas") made me lose all composure...three times. So since I was starting the season being sensitive, I figured I might as well let it in, and let it out.

However, I do feel like I need to search for my own "meaning of Christmas" that may or may not have anything to do with cinnamon brooms, Hallmark original movies, mistletoe, snoap, buying shoes for sick mothers, salvation army bell ringers, or the origins of the word "yule".

To get the ball rolling, I've come up with a To-Do list, pulling reference from all good Christmas stories:

1.) Fall in love

2.) Cut down my own Christmas tree

3.) Rescue an animal that's stubbornly found its way to my back door, and thus, into my heart

4.) Win the lottery and give all, well....some of the money to a sick kid.

5.) Find my way to the North Pole

6.) Reunite with a long lost brother or sister, who's biracial or handicapped

7.) Get stranded in a snowy mountain cabin (and then do #1)

8.) Immaculately conceive

9.) Save Whoville

10.) Cover the entirety of my house in christmas lights

I'll be very busy this year...

OR I'll just be open to what Christmas has in store for me. I'll keep it posted...

Gratitude

2009-11-16T20:13:00.000-08:00

Time to count my blessings.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for gorgeous, funky, elegant chandeliers. They're the perfect whimsy to shine light into the darkest of rooms. I want one in my bedroom.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for stove-popped popcorn. It's so much better than the bagged stuff. But not better than movie theater stuff.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you a thousand times for Anthropologie, my favorite shopping sanctuary. Some people desire cars, others desire mansions, I just want an impeccable wardrobe
and timeless housewares.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for stick figurines. They understand the importance of simplicity.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you so much for angelic, snow capped marshmallows. They're lovely. No wonder I was bribed with them while potty training (True Story). I understood their divinity at a young age. Oh my, is this picture an Anthropologie storefront window? I daresay it is. I rest my aforementioned case.

Thinspiration

2009-11-09T14:12:00.000-08:00

My recent thin- spiration as of late would be from my adventure to the tax collector's office to get the title and registration for my car.

Allow me to explain:

Today I wore sinny jeans, boots, and a fitted tshirt. Other tax collection customers wore this outfit as well. How do I put this eloquently? Now, I'm not saying I look entirely modelesque in this outfit, but let me tell you, I looked straight of the runway in Milan in comparison to my contemporaries, to put it nicely. It was like being in a bakery, I saw so many muffin tops. I'm going to hell. This THINspired me to continue my plight to be thin and trim to be able to wear fashions, muffin top free.

That having been said, the total fee to title and register my car was....drumroll....

$465.90!!!!!!!!!!

And now I'm THINspired to not eat out. Or buy groceries. Or buy clothes I look bad in. Because I can't.

Okay, the part about the groceries is kind of dramatic.

On the flip side, my car is officially mine. Until I sell it and get all of that money back. So I probably shouldn't be freaking out that much...

...Okay, I'm fine.

Hello, November

2009-11-01T16:54:00.000-08:00

Happy November. I think it's a good sign that the month started out with an extra hour. I'm glad it's here.

October stressed me out.

say what?

2009-10-27T18:51:00.000-07:00

My lack of postage about PostSecret may lead you to think I love it less. Oh, contrare. I'm just not very good about posting anything. Besides, who doesn't like a more concise run-down of the past few weeks? Whatever, so... here's a compilation of my faves over the past month or so.

Besides, I would taste like hand sanitizer because I'm injesting it into my bloodstream...

My inside cat takes it upon herself to tell ME when she's ready to look outside. Or she waits for someone to leave the door open...

I love this. It says "I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings because I know that I'm the one who's lucky enough to make you feel better later. So let's be idiotic together forever." And isn't that what destiny is?

Yale? Who knew? I thought someone sent this in from Disney. All of my sexy is wasting away...

Raise your hand if you've ever been taking to someone, they scratch their nose, and you panic that they're actually sending you a silent "you have something in your nose" signal, when in reality, their nose simply itched.

My secret:

When I was sick last week, I made a list in my head of people who would visit me in the hospital if I really got that bad. I like to think my mom would fly down, and that I'd make a full recovery.

Carve it up

2009-10-25T14:46:00.000-07:00

It's pumpkin carving season! This year, my peeps and I inadvertently made a murder scene, with lots of pumpkin carnage. Lovely. So I've checked out what some other Halloweeners have done with pumpkins:

Yummmm.

Oh I get it. Pumpkin Pi.

This carnage is better than ours, I concede....

oops! Don't know how this made it onto my blog.

Oh, the fear....

nom nom nom

Barely bubonic...

2009-10-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

I thought the plague was out in, oh, the 1500's but apparently it's making a comeback. And I've caught it. The good news is, I've had a lot of time to catch up on my reading list:
~the Time Traveler's Wife
~1,001 Best Things to do in New York City
~Glamour

and i'm a few pounds closer to my goal weight.

So if I don't pull through, I'd like you all to know that I've very much enjoyed blogging and hope I have a computer in heaven.

Facelift

2009-10-16T09:11:00.001-07:00

Crazies and Jellyspoons, Cirque Du SolErin has been given a makeover. I hope you like it. And I hope I write more because of it. I dunno, dying my hair makes me play with it more, and rearranging my room makes me go into it more, so maybe the rule will apply to my blog.

18 days into October...

2009-10-10T19:53:00.000-07:00

Yes, bloggers and blogettes, my birthday fast approaches. I will be accepting the milestone of my quarter-life. I will be celebrating the 4th anniversary of my 21st birthday. And I will not be doing it at Atlantic Dance Hall. Nope, I prefer copious amounts of food and wine over awkward skinny dancing guy and retirees.

In lieu of facebook wall messages, I'd prefer the following gifts:

1.) snow.

2.) mad booty shaking skills.

3.) for spats and slap bracelets to come back in style.

4.) magenta hair.

5.) constant instrumental underscore, and un-rehearsed choreography.

It's a short list, I've got most of what I need already.

The greatest month of the year...

2009-10-01T19:59:00.000-07:00

Ladies and Jellyspoons, today is the first day of the greatest month of the year: OCTOBER!!! I'm in LOVE with this month and here's why:

1. Halloween, obviously, is the most exciting holiday of the year, and October saves the best for last. I hope you all have planned your costumes. But don't make them better than mine.

2. It's the only month that starts with O.

3. The prefix "oct" means 8, but October is the tenth month, which means it's cheeky, and I support clever things.

4. It's my birth month. (October 18th. I'll be blogging about that later, i'm sure).

5. I look better in reds and oranges than greens. So my complexion looks better when i'm climbing trees.

6. I love pumpkins, people shaped like pumpkins, and the nickname "Punkin".

7. I love pumpkin spiced things including candles, lattes, muffins, toothpaste, air fresheners, and edible underpants...i mean...

8. It starts getting cool. And in Florida, I do mean "starts" getting cool.

9. It's a popular awareness month: breast cancer, domestic violence, fire prevention, my birthday...

10. Oktoberfest. This month is one big happy hour. (Sorry it's spelled with a k, Bry.)

So, ghouls and goblins, Donnie and Maries, and salt and pepper shakers, have an Octastic October!!!!

Gratitude

2009-09-08T20:31:00.000-07:00

It's time to step back and say THANK YOU to the Universe for some awesome stuff in my life.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for bread and butter. It's like a hug from my mom. And thank you also for this hilarious kid's drawing of said blessing. It looks like butt bread.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for making celebrity stylist Rachel Zoe, as well as her project, so bananas. I hope you know it's an expression when we talk about "dying"...

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you so much for my Crystal Light crack packs. I mean, I know you turned water into wine, but Crystal Light is really giving you a run for your money on this one...

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for this fall's hit comedy "Glee"! I can't wait for show choir to be cool again! Except I'm not in school anymore. And I thank you for that as well.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you thank you thank you for Lush Handmade Cosmetics. Wherever did you find forbidden apple nectar, burning bush sap, and angels' farts to make such exquisite handsoaps and bath bombs? It is, pardon the expression, divine.

Keep it on the DL...

2009-09-06T10:40:00.000-07:00

Even though I neglected to blog about it, PostSecret still posted the Sunday secrets. Here are my faves of this week, plus one from last week:

So clearly this woman is praying for Manolos, naturally. But at first, I thought she was just distracted in church and ended up thinking about shoes rather than God, which, I'm sorry to say, I can relate to all too well.

You have a few choices here: stay and watch the credits in silence and act like you're really interested, stay and watch the credits and talk about your likes and dislikes of the film, stay and watch the credits and make fun of the people's names, or just leave.

I've been giggling for like ten minutes. I think because the mouse is in the emergency position.

p.s. Raise your hand if you thought of Gretchen Wieners.

Wrong. It's Morgan Freeman.

My Secret for the week:

Sometimes I take one of my little fake diamond rings and put it on my engagement finger, just to admire how it looks there.

Then my fear of commitment kicks in and I take it off immediately.

text me.

Pardon my dust...

2009-09-05T14:26:00.000-07:00

Sooooo.... I'm less than tech savvy, despite my ability to remember people's names and my knack for baking.

The aesthetic of my blog is undergoing attempted reconstruction, but until I can wrap my head around HTMLs and codes and downloads (aka, let Bry do it for me...), Cirque du SolErin will just have to endure stages of disarray.

And I'm sorry my blog was posing as Brycrash_to_go for a bit. Not my fault. Hope no one noticed.

text me.

Toothpaste for Dinner

2009-08-04T10:31:00.000-07:00

You GUYYYYS. I'm momentarily obsessed with a little comic. It's called Toothpaste for Dinner. I don't know if it's the wit or the shabby drawings, but i can't stop giggling about them. Here are a few of my faves.

Yep, I'm giggling.

The good new is: there's PLENTY more where this came from.

http://www.toothpastefordinner.com/

They even sell t-shirts if you so feel inclined.

Follow him on Twitter: drewtoothpaste

text me.

The secret's out...

2009-08-03T10:13:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been so long...blah, blah, blah, if you were really truly perturbed by my lack of postage, you need to get a job or something. SO, to get back on the horse, here's some PostSecrets that I love this week:

I'd believe it. That looks massive. You know what else is massive? The waves at Typhoon Lagoon. I lost my balance, my grace, and my backbone in one wave.

I time it so that I'm not in there with my coworkers.

The funny thing about this secret is the followup post explaining how someone fills their medicine cabinets with ping pong balls so they can tell which of their friends are snoopers when they hear an avalanche of ping pong balls. Genius.

HA! It's personal hygiene, not a prostate exam! That's so funny.

My secret of the week:

I stand up to eat my cereal and sit down to enjoy my coffee.

That's not a secret so much as a quirk...whatevs. Take it or leave it.

text me.

V DAY!!!

2009-06-22T13:28:00.000-07:00

No, not Valentine's Day. I would not say that with excitement. Allow me to explain the excitement of TODAY:

My roommate (s) and I looked at a town home yesterday and were sold when we first walked in. The place is ridiculous. Peter, our savvy British landlord, showed it to us and told us a German family was just looking at it earlier that day and they were making a decision the next day, so if we wanted it, we needed to decide ASAP. Since we had supposedly cheaper and less impressive places to look at, we held off. Lo and behold, those places didn't fit the bill, so this morning, we were thrilled to find the place was still available. In true World War II fashion, we recruited our British ally and beat the Germans! THAT'S why today is V-Day!!!

Moving on, here's a floorplan of our place, with customized explanations of the usage...click on it to make it bigger.

I'm STOKED and can't wait for a housewarming party.

Did I mention we're moving in a week and a half? ...Yikes.

text me.

Change that dial...

2009-06-16T15:31:00.000-07:00

I feel the need to express my depression that my subscription to my satellite car radio has expired. On Tuesday, June 9th, my programmed buttons all erased my favorite stations, conceited to the default "preview" Channel 1, and left a gaping hole in my exclusive music world. I must, for the first time in two years, tune in with the commoners to FM radio. But I can't find stations I like. So far, I've found a nice ghetto club station from Tampa, that's somewhat static-y, an 80's and more station that's hit and miss, a station that's pop by day and delilah (instant gag reflex) by night, and another pop station that plays "Second Chance" far too often. I just can't win, not until I can afford another XM subscription.

The good news is that I can just plug in my iPod, finally complete with The Fame...

text me.

PostSecret...delayed

2009-06-04T12:10:00.000-07:00

I've neglected PostSecret. This is what happens when you get super busy with work, fixing your car yourself, driving the kids around, buying a house, writing a novel, diabetes research, pilgrimage to the holy land, launching a couture shoe collection, and turning 43...

...So I have no excuse.

Here's a funny secret worth sharing:

I always think of crying people saying "You just don't think it will ever happen to you until it does." And I walk a little faster with my keys inbetween my fingers like Wolverine, ready to go for the eyes.

My secret this week:

I still giggle every time I see a Smart car.

text me.

Thinspiration

2009-05-29T14:41:00.000-07:00

So I'm stoked that So You Think You Can Dance is back on for the summer. AND there's gonna be another season in the fall. Awesome. Not only is this show inspiring to live your dream and follow your passion, yada yada yada, but it's incredibly thinspiring. Nothing makes me want to get off the couch more than watching superhuman people with legs for days and 18-packs leap around effortlessly in spandex suggestions of shorts and wife beaters and look amazing doing it. And nothing jiggles. Except if it's choreography. It's a very "what am i doing with my life?" kind of a moment... le sigh...

I'm actually gonna stop blogging and go to ghetto jam.

text me.

The Final Frontier...

2009-05-11T14:52:00.000-07:00

Today is SPACE DAY!!! My broseph and I went out to Kennedy Space Center and watched the Space Shuttle Atlantis get beamed up into the sky to go give a hug to the Hubble telescope. Here's a pictoral review of the day:

Looking refreshed at 6am waiting for our late tour bus. Don't worry, the morning glow went away real fast...

We were greeted by an astronaut at the Kennedy Space Center. I don't think anyone told him he wasn't in space anymore, although he fakes weighlessness very well.

The Rocket Garden. That's right, a garden of rockets...or perhaps q-tips?

On the causeway, our first potential viewing location, scrapped. BUT you can see the blur of the Atlantis.

Second attempt viewing location: much better. complete with food stands, bleachers, and a countdown clock. This may or may not have been a private area...

I don't know what this building is.

I don't know what this building is, either.

This maybe is the vehicle assembly building. Or maybe I just made that up. But it has the giant NASA emblem on it. Pretty cool.

And for your viewing pleasure.....

Cool, right?

The vapor trail, post-launch. Call me crazy, but I secretly wanted it to blow over us and rain Hydrochloric Acid on us, just to say we got baptized by the space shuttle. Something to tell the grandkids.

text me.

Mama's got a secret...

2009-05-11T14:41:00.001-07:00

Happy day after Mother's Day! We all keep secrets from our moms. And moms have secrets, too.

I used to purposely leave too late to walk to school so my mom would have to drive me before work...my school was seriously down the street.

Either you or your mom in senile.

Ha! She may not have given you everything you wanted in your lunchbox, but she gave you a great ass.

My secret:

Thank you, Mom, for giving me your curly hair. I promise to give it to my kids, too.

text me.

Desiderata

2009-05-01T16:18:00.000-07:00

I meant to share this a long time ago, but didn't follow through. So here it is now.

There is a magnificent poem my Max Ehrmann called Desiderata and it has gotten me through some cloudy and uncertain times.

I don't know if I'd call it a poem so much as words of wisdom from a complete stranger that is the exact thing you need to hear at this moment. So read this, and by all means, hug your pillow, hear the angels sing, and let your life be changed.

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Feels good, doesn't it?

text me.

Overalls, mall bangs, and Seattle

2009-04-29T09:12:00.000-07:00

So I'm blessed to have satellite radio in my car. I've got my programmed channels of Alternative pop, Top 20, Broadway, etc. But recently, I've discovered the mecca of nostalgic music. 90's on 9. I was born in the 80's, but I'm certainly a child of the 90's, seeing as that's when I was old enough to be conscious of the culture around me. Here's a rundown of the best of the best that I've heard:

~ Lovefool by the Cardigans
~ 500 Miles by the Proclaimers
~ Bills Bills Bills by Destiny's Child
~ Damn, I Wish I was your Lover by Sophie B. Hawkins
~ As I Lay Me Down by Sophie B. Hawkins
~I Wanna Sex You Up by Color Me Badd
~ Men In Black by Will Smith
~ All 7 Will Die by Prince
~ Whoomp, There it is by Tag Team
~ Bitch by Meredith Brooks

~ #1 Crush by Garbage

~ C'est La Vie by BeWitched

I have yet to hear Skee-Lo. But that's on my ipod, so I'm good.

Happy Sunday

2009-04-25T21:17:00.000-07:00

OMG, I'm actually early on my PostSecret this week. Exceeeeeept I'm pretty sure my blog could be qualified as a PostSecret fan site judging on the frequency of PostSecret posts and lack of non-PostSecret posts. I should get a life. But first, enjoy my favorite things about other people's lives:

I love when people flash their highbeams to warn me about police. It's like a secret code that will eventually turn into a revolution against the law. But for now, we just stick it to the man.

I'm not sure a gift of a cheese grater is ever a good decision. But I guess if someone gave me one for Valentine's Day, and it wasn't an adorable inside joke, I'd take it as a sign to move on, which can be an even better gift in itself.

Okay, now. First of all, jumping on Oprah's couch, although reserved for crazy Scientologists, is an act of celebration. Second of all, using your vibrator means you have an inactive social life. In conclusion, what are you celebrating? Duracell AAs?

My secret of the week:

I miss gorcery shopping with my mom.

text me.

I have something to tell you...

2009-04-19T23:17:00.000-07:00

PostSecret is pretty good this week, but there are a lot of dark ones. Aaaaaand call me shallow, but I like the funny ones better. Here they are:

Interesting and hilarious. Everyone should read "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim". He's one of those people you really wish would be around to help point out the ironic, funny things in the mundane.

Subliminal middle finger. Clever. It's one of the few acronyms not already used by Disney Scheduling...

My secret of the week:

If my life were a reality show, the confessional would be on the toilet because that's when I'm thinking most clearly.

Don't be grossed out.

text me.

Thank you for having me...

2009-04-19T15:18:00.000-07:00

If you've ever watched Inside the Actor's Studio, hosted by James Lipton, you know that Mr. Lipton asks the same ten questions at the end of each show to the featured actor. Like every other actor who has seen the show, I've thought of my own answers...and rehearsed them in the mirror....only half kidding.

1. What is your favorite word?

Flicker. It makes me wink when I say it.

2. What is your least favorite word?

Well, James, if I had to pick ONE, I guess... moist.

3. What turns you on?

Eye contact. But not creepy.

4. What turns you off?

Bullshit, in general.

5. What sound do you love?

A really hearty genuine laugh. And my cat meowing in the form of a question.

6. What sound do you hate?

PDA spit noises.

7. What is your favorite curse word?

F*ck. It's so multi-purpose.

8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?

Pastry chef. No one doesn't like people who bake.

9. What profession would you not like to do?

Character attendant at Disney World.

10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?

Whooo, I'm glad you made it. It was touch and go there for a while...

OneLess...

2009-04-16T11:36:00.000-07:00

*WARNING: IF YOU'RE A NEEDLE-PHOB, DON'T READ THIS POST. SCROLL DOWN AND READ MY POSTSECRET POST AGAIN......THEN TEXT ME :)*

So I got my second ho vaccination this morning. A simple shot in the arm. No big deal. Except I think I project the image and energy that I'm terrified. Becuase both nurses (yes, there were two) were adamently reminding me "Just remember to relaaaaax." I WAS relaxed. I'm 24 years old. And then right before they stuck it in, she says "Okay, big stick!" Meaning...this is gonna hurt big time? or this needle (stick, i assume) is freaking huge?

So I survived. Not a flinch. I wore by big girl panties...UNTIL I was taking off the bandaid and cotton ball they routinely placed on the injection site and the cotton fibers stuck to the scab! My knees went weak, I shivered, I gagged, this I could not handle. All I could think about was those tiny little fibers meandering through my veins, clogging my arteries, and tickling my brain stem. Ripping cotton fibers are like nails on a chalkboard to me. Sure, big sticks through the skin, no problem, but you rip a cotton ball in front of me, and I hit the ground.

text me.

secrets...

2009-04-14T22:14:00.001-07:00

Even though I didn't blog about it because I was on vaca, you can bet I still checked PostSecret for this week's best secrets in America. And I was not disappointed. Enjoy my faves:

This picture is so damn funny and the wisdom that accompanies it is spot on.

At least a lot of things are getting cheaper...

Well, the trick is not to lean forward so much when you close them. Then again, it depends on how massive your boobs are. You may need to just call for outside help.

My secret for the week:

I hear phantom texts from my phone at least twice an hour or so, and am disappointed when I check it and it's blank.

Text me when you read this.

Can I get a witness?

happy easter

2009-04-12T19:25:00.000-07:00

A very Happy Easter to you! Here is a quick breakdown of my day:

1. Woke up exhausted after dying eggs until like 1:30am.
2. Ate traditional holiday breakfast asserole...that's right, i said asserole. inside joke from a happy accident.
3. Went to church for the mercy of my soul.
4. Thanked the Easter bunny for the Sonicare and cold hard cash.
5. ANNIHILATED the easter egg hunt. Completely schooled my 26 year old brother in the fine art of finding eggs.
6. Drank and ate with friends and fam.
7. Drank and sang "American Pie" without knowing the words.
8. Drank and watched the dvd of my christening...24 years ago.
9. Drank and gambled.
10. Drank and ate cake in the shape of a bunny.
11. Drank water and blogged.

All in all, it was a good day.

Blessings come in all shapes and flavors...

Mission Control, do you read me?

2009-04-10T20:54:00.000-07:00

So my earbuds broke for my iPod...

And now I get to rock THESE...

I added the sunglasses for dramatic effect.

Lady Gaga, eat your heart out.

...Lady Gaga, if you're reading this, I'm just kidding. Like my poker face?

Sssshhh...

2009-04-05T21:58:00.000-07:00

Happy Sunday, home slices...okay, whatever, it's Monday now, but I haven't gone to bed yet, so it still counts as my Sunday. AND it's still Sunday in the Mountain and Pacific time zones. But I digress... If you plan on sharing your secrets to the world this week, check out these first:

I feel superior if I'm sweating more than the person next to me. This probably means I'm in worse shape, but at least I'm creating an illusion of dedication.

I love the creativity of this secret despite the melancholy subject matter. For real, though, I always want to talk to my people in that 2 second silence right after the trailer is done.

Were the leaves on the ground or still on the tree? Either way, it's romantic. One just seems a bit more exciting/grass-stainy.

I have to break it off with my hand before I eat it... (that's what she sai-... no, that doesn't make sense.)

WHY?!?!?! Oh, you probably work at Disney. Some days, anything is better...

My secret of the week:

I've thought of clever answers for all of James Lipton's final questions on Inside the Actor's Studio, but I can't think of a witty response to "What do you want God to say to you at the pearly gates?"

Can I get a witness?

Thinspiration

2009-04-01T19:12:00.000-07:00

I'm not ashamed to say that I, like many Americans, am trying to get into better shape. So I'm always in need of what I like to call "thinspiration." Whatever makes me run a little longer, whatever makes me punch out a few more crunches, or whatever makes me put DOWN the cupcake counts as thinspiration. So I'd like to share some thinspiration:

I LOVE going to BodyJam class at my gym. I've come to call it GhettoJam because it's just ghetto dancing for cardio (Four 8-counts of booty shaking!). It's mad fun. The girls that teach it are incredibly motivating and energetic and they always have matching outfits. So a few days ago, they were rocking "Team Edward" t-shirts, a break away from the simple color coordinated racer back tops. They then took it a step further by putting a picture of Robert Pattinson on the mirror for all of us to look at. And i did. And it worked. So my thinspiration for that class was to work out hard so I would be be hot like a vampire.

P.S. I'm eating carrots as I'm blogging right now. It works.

Almost Sunday

2009-03-30T12:06:00.001-07:00

I was so ready to do my PostSecret posting on this actual Sunday instead of the following Friday or something, but my internet was down yesterday. F that. Here's my breakdown:

Because it IS hilarious. Except how freaked out are you to the be the bystander that walks down the aisle of tiny frankensteins after the guilty has run away?

Nervous #twos: Most Unfortunate human reaction. Why couldn't it just stop at clammy hands or obnoxious chattiness?

There's something about Bollywood movies that reinforce the dream of a "5,6,7,8-production number" world.

At least you have the decency to ring it up at all. Not that I'm judging if you don't...

My Secret for the week:

Octopi and squid freak me out. Except I eat calamari...

Can I get an amen?

The bass in my walk...

2009-03-26T08:48:00.000-07:00

So Monday was NOT a good self-esteem day. I went to an open call, no callback. That's fine, it's the biz, whatever. So I found myself at the mall, perhaps for a little retail therapy, and decided to try on some bathing suits. NOT a confidence booster. So I found solace in Betsey Johnson. (I live.) But alas, the dresses I loved wouldn't zip over my boobs. (Yes, I'm allowed to compain about the boobs when they keep me from enjoying Betsey Johnson fashion.) Strike three. I ended up just buying some lip gloss and retreating to Bry's place. And this is where I got my groove back. All thanks to:

I learn more about being a fabulous woman watching men tip down the runway then watching beautiful women fail at it on ANTM. These drag queens are beautiful even when they're bitches. They have more poise and confidence being a women than a lot of the women I know. The next time I'm feeling frumpy, I'm just gonna lip sync for my life and let my diva out! And imagine RuPaul herself saying "Erin...Shante, you stay."

PoooooostSecret

2009-03-26T08:13:00.000-07:00

I've been lazy and neglectful. (Is that a word? whatever.) I'm still as big a fan of PostSecret as ever, but I just haven't expressed it so on my blog. Soooooo here's a small collection of my faves from the past few weeks:

I fell in love with a boy at MoMA for approx. 23 seconds when we were looking at the same picture. It was so much fun.

Completely justified! I ask my graphic designer to photoshop them.

This is dangerous. And all for a good cause.

There's nothing like a few cocktails and a botched rendition of "American Pie" with the Andersons. I also like getting drunk with other people's parents.

I've always wanted to burn an entire Chekov play.

I think we always make art. Everytime we create something. A sandwich can be just as inspiring as a Monet. Except you can eat a sandwich.

This is true. They probably have the most secrets and their secrets will gnaw themselves out eventually, but with PostSecret, at least they'd know they're not alone.

My secret for the week:

I freak out a little bit when I notice I'm "slowly turning into my mother." But then I remember my mom is awesome and then I'm okay.

Can I get an Amen?

Gratitude

2009-03-05T11:54:00.000-08:00

Woo, it's been a while since I've posted a gratitude post, but that doesn't mean I've been ungrateful. This gratitude post is all about New York, in lieu of my pilgrimage. These are my most recent favorite things about New York.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the aesthetically pleasing and A.D.D. friendly JetBlue Airlines. Even though the stewardesses take their job too seriously, I still enjoyed my Munchie mix and diet Coke while I learned that 4 airbags deploy in my row in the case of an emergency. And I'll never forget it.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for New York pizza, namely on Bleeker Street. The party in my tummy had no idea what was coming. But it liked it.

Dear Baby Jesus, I may be the only thanking your for pigeons. But they're funny. So thank you.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the Museum of Modern Art, where hipsters and crazies assemble to be weird, but with an open mind. I had no idea that a bad of cat litter and self-mutilation was art. I'm sorry I got tired and weirded out before we reached all of the floors. Maybe I'll start at the top next time?

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the Not For Tourists Guide to New York City. I didn't know that looking at a map was still for non-tourists.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the infamous Subway and it's sense of humor. This poster was our favorite. Thank you also for that guy playing the guitar on the L train and how everyone thought it was okay. On that note, thank you for all of the subway platform performers. Livin the dream.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for the Naked Cowboy. We know each other real well now, as you can see. I'm sorry, I know my body is a temple, but it isn't a very good temple if no one visits, right. So the Naked Cowboy went straight to the basement.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you soooo much for Magnolia cupcakes. Sweet, sweet nectar of your tears and crystalized sugar never tasted so good.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you most of all for the best friends ever, not all pictured here. This picture just had the most in it. I can't wait to live there.

Random act of dance...

2009-03-05T11:15:00.000-08:00

Random acts of kindness are so '08. The new way to spread joy and sponeneity in the world is random acts of dance. It's gonna be big in '09.
This was done at the Liverpool Station. 10 hidden cameras, 400 dancers, and countless bewildered people who nonetheless joined in.

on another note...

2009-02-23T20:32:00.000-08:00

So I've come to realize pretty much all of my posts are about PostSecret. Blogging about other blogs seems like a cop out. Whatever, at least I'm posting more frequently than Bry....

So I'd like to take this post to say that I'm SO EXCITED TO GO TO NEW YORK TOMORROW.

I like to think of this trip as a pilgrimage more than a vacation. I've got a lot on my clipboard of fun, but what I really want out of this trip is to feel like a New Yorker for even the tiniest moment. Whether that means yelling at a car that "I'm walkin 'ere!", getting on a subway without having to look at a map, or eating the best pizza and cupcakes in the world, I won't know until I get there. But I'm stoked. Let the journey begin...

I love you, Bry. Get off your couch and finish packing.

PostSecret Faves

2009-02-23T20:10:00.000-08:00

Okay, this week's PostSecret was really good. They're funny, sad, intriguing, gross, everything you could ask for. So it was hard to pick ones that were my favorites, but I somehow managed.

One of MY biggest fears is that I'll be in that bathroom when the wrong person walks in. Or that I'll walk in while the wrong person has been in there, if you know what I mean...

I'll think of this next time someone says "I don't remember names, but I remember faces..."

People clumsiness has never stopped: Katy Perry, Beyonce, Kelsey Grammar, Brandon Nobles...

My Secret of the week:

I'm irritated by people who wear sunglasses inside or at night. I automatically think they're up to no good because they're making it obvious that they don't want to connect with other people. It's shady...literally.

PostSecret faves...belated

2009-02-20T20:01:00.000-08:00

This PostSecret review was delayed simply because all of the secrets this week were about love. Consequently, when I was done reading all of them, I felt bitter and unmotivated to go about my life. It took me all week to get over it. I'm sill working on it. Here's what I've come up with:

I'm gonna start writing subliminal messages into PB&Js from now on: "I'm awesome", "Recycle", "Read my blog", etc.

Here it is. The bitter representation of single people on this tragic day.

Isn't this how it really happens? It's the only moment when laissez-faire and panic find common ground.

My secret of the week:

Two moments in life that make me always want a boyfriend are when I'm watching fireworks and when I'm carrying in my groceries.

To test your patience...

2009-02-15T12:15:00.000-08:00

So I'm at Barnes & Nobles today and I can't find a book. So, after scouring through all of the sections I THINK it would be, I swallow my pride and go to the customer service counter to bother someone else with my troubles. The desk itself is not intimidating, nor is it inconvenient to find. However, what is daunting is the lack of customer service. No one was there. Just three empty computers and me. So I wait. Surely someone is bound to return after successfully helping someone else. There's a man with a nametag all the way across the store in the music section that sees me. He smiles. A lady walks by, also wearing a nametag. She slows and asks if I'm waiting to be helped. I say yes, when suddenly a loud radio goes off announcing there's someone waiting to be helped at the customer service desk at the same time a third lady swoops in to my rescue. I didn't see the music department man use any radio, and the other ladies didn't have radios, which leads me to believe someone else was watching from somewhere else. And that freaked me out.

This is not a very good story, but it made me think of those bells that say "ring for service". I think these bells, as convenient as they may be, are very rude. Nothing says "impatient" like ringing a service bell, no matter how polite the angelic belltone sounds. If there was one at this customer service desk, I probably would not have rang it. Good thing someone's always watching at Barnes & Nobles.

Oh, and they didn't even have what I was looking for. Figures.

Log 4

2009-02-09T13:17:00.001-08:00

Bad news, readers. The vacuum cleaner is fixed. Two days ago, I was filled with false hope when many people larger than my captor entered the residence and ensnared the vacuum, leading me to believe they were conquering it and ridding my miserable life of its loud noise and threat to suck out my soul. Howsoe'er, I was decieved. The vacuum was mearly returned to its previous state of hunger. How long must this go on? Fear not, I'm once again on high alert as I've taken to remaining perched in tall places until Medusa charges at me, roaring the phrase "KITTYGETDOWN!" I'm sure that means something...

P.S. I'm still dealing with the singing frog.

The Dirt Devil has been exorcized

2009-02-08T22:13:00.000-08:00

So my folks came into town this week and along with their hugs and laughter and three buck chuck (yessssss), they also brought me a new band for my vacuum. I wasn't about to try and fix it myself (see post entitled "Probaby a bad idea"), so they took over. A few q-tips, some cooking oil, and a butter knife later, I had a new vacuum. I guess every family has a MacGyver.

Sunday Sunday Sunday.

2009-02-08T22:00:00.000-08:00

Ladies and Jellyspoons, it's PostSecret day. Here are my faves, such as I promised.

Some things you can't control. Some things you must offer up to the hilarious gods.

How else would they know about the He-Man underpants, the thumb-sucking, and the stack of porn....i mean...what?

I'm sure someone somewhere on the Enterprise thought they, too, had a crappy job at one point. Just goes to show you never know who's admiring you...

And my secret for the week:

Whenever I'm doing my ribbon wand routine in Block Party, I pretend all the scooter boys going by are racecars and I'm the sexy checkered flag girl.

Throwback

2009-02-04T01:41:00.001-08:00

Listen. JT said he was bringing "sexy" back. To be honest, I was unaware that "sexy" had left. So before JT, was I thinking I was occasionally sexy, but in fact, was not? How embarrassing. Moving on, I've come to realize there are a few blasts from the past that need to make a comeback. Here's the short list:

Dangerous playgrounds

Because safety is not fun. The more old tires and rusty screws and tetanus, the better.

This Songlist

1. Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In: This is one of the only non-sexual songs I can think of where clothing is optional.

2. The entire Jagged Little Pill album: These emotions will never go out of style. And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back, he will feel it.

3. Benny and the Jets: 27 Dresses made an attempt to spotlight this jam. I caught on.

4. The Hustle: One the whole family can dance to, regardless of who knows the actual dance. And don't act like you don't love whispering "Do it."

5. Copacabana: What a gripping tale about Lola the showgirl. And a very catchy bongo line. Even the most uncoordinated people can suddenly salsa when this one pops up.

6. All Night Long: For whatever reason I think of the Flintstones dancing with a sombrero. idk. But this is a great song.

7. Time of the Season: This song is hot. I can't put my finger on the why, but it's hot in a dark hallway, catwalking, put down your cocktail kind of a way.

Spats

Stop cringing because they remind you of Mary Poppins and/or Trolley. You love your jobs. Focus on the spats. I'm planning on single-handedly bringing back spats. How dapper and classy and stylish are these smart shoe items? And they can instantly turn a pair of pumps into boots! I love them.

PostSecret

2009-02-01T12:42:00.000-08:00

It's SuperBowl Sunday! Which means....PostSecret has some fresh new secrets to share with the world. (I actually don't really care about the SuperBowl. Sorry.) So here are my faves and what I have to say about them:
I'm that way about brushing my teeth. But I'm rarely in this predicament, so....

I just got a package of empty wine bottles. That would've pissed him off.

OR Mercury in retrograde!!!

And my secret of the week:

The smell of automobile exhaust makes me kind of excited because I think I'm somewhere important enough for there to be a lot of traffic...like New York City.

It's a new day...

2009-02-01T12:31:00.000-08:00

It's okay, guys. Mercury is no longer in retrograde. Which means one less excuse to be an a**hole. But you can all come out of your homes now. Until May. Then it happens again.

PostSecret

2009-01-25T22:08:00.000-08:00

So this week's Post Secret was slightly flat. The secrets were honest and simple, but I've seen better from underneath America's rug. So here are the few that I did enjoy:

This is the opposite side of the card that read "Why does travelling make me so freaking horny?" The reason I like this is because it's written on a safety information pamphlet. I wonder if this person was turned on by the US Airways Hudson incident? ...too soon?

I use my company's paint refurbishment projects to get high...involuntarily.

Is this a picture of what I think it is?

And here's my secret for the week:

I think I would do really well on the Real World.

Log 3

2009-01-24T16:23:00.000-08:00

Allow me first and foremost to apologize for my tardiness in updating my postings. Allow me secondly to introduce myself to the followers who have been caught in the world wide web of lies that is this blog. My name is Sofia Loren and I am the housecat of the Medusa that publishes this blog. I frequently post journalings of my pursuit to escape these confines, but have been on a small hiatus. Rest assured much has happened since I've last logged. Allow me to regale you:
I'll begin with the Christmas season. This has got to be the strangest time of year. I fail to recognize any occasion where trees should be kept inside. I was thrown at first by the foreign aroma but soon found it useful to practice my jungle climbing skills for when I return to the rainforests of South America. I was improving until Medusa sprayed me with a toxin that bittered my tastebuds to the core. I rebelled by removing all of the dangling objects from both trees (that's right, there were two). Littering the floor with these glass balls and sharp objects was all in an attempt to injure my captors, but my effors were to no avail. I decided that a better approach was to demonstrate my wrath and ferocity on an even more annoying Christmas chachki, a caroling frog, pictured above. (Panthers kill frogs in the rainforest, right?)

And now I must be vulnerable for a minute. Underneath my sleek, cunning, athletic exterior, there is fear. Only one, no room for two. That fear is the vacuum cleaner. Things go in and never come out. That is terrifying. As much as I want to escape, that seems like a torturous way to go. Today, Medusa performed surgery on the vacuum cleaner and the smell was horrific. I believe it was the smell of death and lost souls.

Moving on, I'm brought to the subject of jewelry making, one of Medusa's hobbies. How cruel is it to sit amongst small shiney objects and NOT be allowed to self-stimulate? (or play, as lesser intelligent beings might say). What is even crueler is being forced to wear such jewelry. A chain around the neck is the signature of captivity. Naturally, I made an effort to remove it with my mighty incisors. Howsoe'er, the chain was fit the perfect size so that my jaw was locked underneath the chain with my sharp tooth caught in the link! Medusa did not know how long I was like this, mouth open wide, throat drying, unable to speak, unable to look up. I could only walk and sit. Perhaps this was her evil plan to choke me into submission. Miraculously, she freed me. And I've been on high alert since then. Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm lucky to be alive.

So on that note, I leave you with this advice: Do not wear Medusa's jewelry.

Probaby a bad idea

2009-01-24T14:19:00.000-08:00

So today is roughly the peak of Mercury being in retrograde. By all means, I should have stayed in bed all day wrapped in bubble wrap, as I was advised. But I only made it to noon. Because then I decided to give Mercury the finger and be productive by cleaning/redecorating my room and bathroom. (And by redecorate, I mean hang a few different pictures on the walls. I wasn't gonna go crazy on a day like today.) But Mercury had other plans. Starting with the vacuum, my trusty dirt devil. I plug it in and go about my business until I smell something rancid. Checking the filter, I decided it needs to be emptied because it was at capacity. A few sneezes and a messy kitchen floor later, I'm thinking it's working like a dream. Until the smell returns and I realize it's not picking up anything. So I flip the thing over and the roller isn't even turning. Instead of saying "okay, this is just broken, let it go, buy a new vacuum, pick everything up by hand," I get out my toolbox and gut the sucker. Soon I found myself sitting in a pile of dusty hair and crap amidst tools and parts I didn't even know existed. The smell, I found out, was burning rubber from the broken and melted belt, mixed with burnt hair, I'm sure. And now that smell was in my bedroom. I managed to put it back together, and resigned to the fact that the vacuum was lost. So I lit some candles in it's memory, and to rid my sanctuary of the foul stench.
...It okay, though, because we had another vacuum cleaner all along.... figures.

eat what???

2009-01-21T12:51:00.000-08:00

This must be shared. I've had many a laugh-fest about this and you should too.

P.S. thanks for the ringtone, Bry.

PostSecret Faves

2009-01-21T12:28:00.000-08:00

Sorry I procrastinated until hump day to do this, but here are my faves from this Sunday's PostSecret blog, and here are my comments that follow:

....why?

Go to the www.PostSecret.com to read the whole story behind this one. I thought it was very sweet and creative and then I got bitter because I was reminded Valentine's Day is coming up. More on that later, I guarantee.

Is that a bad thing?

plus, the shout out to new york excites me...

Everyone else posted this and so will I...because this is a universal truth.

And here's my secret for the week:

I steal safety information pamphlets from airplanes.

Wait, did I already say that in another post?

F Mercury.

F Mercury

2009-01-20T16:18:00.000-08:00

Are you in a bad mood? I can tell you why: MERCURY IS IN RETROGRADE!!! That means, Mercury is moving in an opposite direction than it's normal course. Here's an explanation of how it effects us:

This period lasts about three weeks and occurs about three times a year. It may have more specific indications with reference to your birth chart, but we will endeavor to give the more general effects below.
Since Mercury is the planet that represents communication, a retrograde Mercury usually brings problems and difficulties with communications, automobiles and vehicles, phone systems, travel, transportation, lost luggage, delayed or cancelled flights, mail delivery, computers, internet connections, information technology, and contractual agreements. It can cause delays, setbacks and last-minute changes in plans and arrangements as well as breakdowns of machinery and equipment. The difficulties are for the most part minor but irritating in nature.

So, if things just aren't going right, blame it on Mercury. I am.

And isn't it ironic...

2009-01-17T14:33:00.000-08:00

...how a nice hot shower can make you so dehydrated? Just seems backwards.

What's Your Secret?...

2009-01-16T22:46:00.001-08:00

While I'm on the subject, here are some secrets that are my other favorites. I don't necessarily relate to them, I just find them provocative, or funny, or just lovely.

Let's be honest. Most of us would do that AT THE WEDDING.

Chivalry is not dead. It's just usually gay.

I hope it had a good ending.

Stalker. In a cute way.

I've never been more curious about a tragedy involving a biscuit.

I don't know, either. But i agree.

Sigh....

Praise for PostSecret

2009-01-14T22:23:00.000-08:00

So I'm sure a lot of you have heard of PostSecret.com, but in case you haven't, here's the rundown: People design a postcard that reveals a secret about themselves that they've never told anyone, and they anonymously send it to this guy, Frank, who runs this website and has published collections of people's secrets for the world to see. He updates his site every Sunday with new secrets and it has now become a highlight of every Sunday in my life. Why, you ask? It's completely fascinating. EVERYONE has a secret, from affairs to suicides to moral conflict to quirky habits. It's a reminder that you, no matter how much of a freak you think you are, are not alone in your freakdom. I actually save my favorites from every week on my computer. So I want to start sharing them on my blog, just to stir your thoughts. My favorite part about visiting the site is finding the secrets that I relate to and make me say "My God, did I send that in?" Here are a few of my faves that made me ask that question:

The answer to the question is "No, I did NOT send any of these in." But I can relate to each of them.

And p.s. It's purely coincidental that two of these are about toilet paper. It's really not that prevalent in my life.l

So here's a secret of my own:

Whenever I realize an interesting quirk about myself, I design a postsecret card in my head and pretend I'm gonna send it in.

Start spreadin' the news...

2009-01-07T21:44:00.000-08:00

Just thinkin' about the future... at my fingertips.

A song after my own heart.

2008-12-14T09:41:00.000-08:00

You know I love spoofs. My new favorite Christmas spoof is A Colbert Christmas: The Greatest Gift of All! Five stars, Two thumbs up, Four popcorn bags, and what have you. Here's a little taste (pun intended) of crooning soul daddy John Legend singing about the most important ingredient in egg nog:

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

A Colbert Christmas: John Legend

Colbert at Christmas
Colbert Christmas DVD

Green Screen
Bill O'Reilly Interview

Go back and listen to "Nutmeg"...bitches.

hehe...

2008-12-05T21:38:00.000-08:00

Am I a total scrooge for thinking this is funny? Maybe.

Not Tiny Tim again...

2008-12-04T23:00:00.000-08:00

I'm also boycotting that song about the damn Christmas shoes. I needn't explain how I despise the super-sized serving of guilt that comes with this one, topped with a sprig of holly.

Bah Humbug

2008-11-29T21:04:00.000-08:00

I think this cartoon speaks for all lonely and miserable single twentysomethings that want to throw every piece of mistletoe into a shredder, along with the big neon sign that comes with it saying "Hey Look! She's Single! She's got nobody to kiss! She's going home alone!" So then your girlfriends hand you some strong egg nogg with the arm not wrapped around their boyfriend just before the creepers come a-runnin'. My point is, childhood Christmases are awesome. Adult Christmases can be awesome for different reasons. Single adult Christmases are not awesome. I'm not meaning to be a Scrooge, but I'm just having to dig down MUCH deeper this year to find some yultide cheer. So I may not boycott Christmas, but I'm definitely boycotting mistletoe.

Log 2

2008-11-22T21:40:00.000-08:00

Sofia here, still captive in the confines of Medusa's lair. I'm building my resistance to water. This way, no squirt bottle punishment can deflect my efforts of escape. They squirt me every time I get on the kitchen counter or anywhere near their food. This will be a problem when I try and poison them into unconsciousness. I've discovered the faucet in the bathroom is a good place to test my water tolerance and to receive a fresh water supply. Currently, I can only hold my paw under the stream for approximately two seconds. Weak. But with rigorous training, I should be scuba diving in no time. This same location is where Medusa washes her face morning and night. While her eyes are closed in this process, I try and Judo-chop her into a deep sleep. She only becomes agitated and splashes my face. Bring it on. I've also tasted the frothy substance she scrubs onto her face. This is very unpleasant. In fact, I threw up. However, this could prove useful when I need to express an act of defiance.

I've also noticed Medusa's frequent reading habits. She musn't educate herself. I try and lodge myself inbetween the book and her face, but my efforts are foiled. She is stronger than me. Once I've been banished from reading time, I find high places to perch and knock things, preferably heavy and valuable, to the ground, testing the damaging effects of gravity on them should suicide become an option, or perhaps an end.

More updates to come. Wish me well.

Gratitude

2008-11-18T14:53:00.000-08:00

Some more things to be thankful for:

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you so much for the lovely cold fronts we've gotten and hopefully will continue to get down here next to the gateway to hell. It actually feels like a change in seasons and I love it. I don't expect snow here, but I'm still grateful for it. Factoid: I used to make snow angels face down when I was a wee little thing. I'm also Polish.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for sepia toned artsy photographs. Especially ones of New York City. Sometimes, when I'm wearing the right sunglasses, I pretend life is in sepia tone. But I'm also grateful for colors. Especially when it comes to things like traffic lights.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for painting. My media of choice is acrylic paint on wine bottles, which is a lovely excuse to drink more wine, but I hope to expand my creative horizons onto canvas, walls, and human skin... And thank you for painting parties.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for false eyelashes. Instant glamazon in an otherwise unglamorous world.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for my new LG CU515 Plum phone. Sometimes I think it's grape flavored but when I lick it, all I get is a metal taste. I'm sure I just need to get through that layer, like a jawbreaker.

Dear Baby Jesus, I APOLOGIZE for not thanking you sooner for SANGRIA. There are no words to divulge my passionate love affair with the mediterranean pozione di amore. I love it. And I know it loves me. So thank you.

Gross, Pumpkins. Just gross.

2008-11-16T09:26:00.000-08:00

So, I love pumpkins. Carving them, painting them, hugging them, and what have you. And you know I love pumpkin flavored things that aren't even pumpkins. But for the past two years, my pumpkins have taken a turn for the worse post-Halloween. Last year, I bought a perfect pumpkin but never got around to carving it. It sat outside on my balcony on an adorable folding chair of mine and I forgot about it. In Kansas, the frigid November weather would have simply refrigerated it, but that's not the case down south. It literally baked to the chair. Sparing vile details, I'll just tell you that I gagged numerous times and had to throw away the chair. So THIS year, I carved a pumpkin but it was thrown away before things really got out of hand. But the little pumpkin I painted I thought surely wouldn't be effected that bad. Oh, contrare, Miss Anderson. It certainly rotted from the inside and deflated before an encore performance of last year sans chair. But once again, I gagged. I really hope this isn't an annual thing.

Help me!

2008-11-13T21:22:00.001-08:00

To the bloggers and free peoples on the world wide web, I address you as a captive of the Medusa (her curls must be snakes) who publishes this blog. I don't have much time, she's baking in the next room. My name is Sofia Loren and I've embarrassingly inserted my picture. I'm plotting an escape from this prison, in hopes of returning to my native tribe of black panthers and leopards in the deep rainforests of South America.

To begin, my captor has removed my feline lady parts AND my front claws. What kind of a cat is a cat without claws? Secondly, she's taken to force me into ridiculous articles of clothing (see above). I'm already entirely covered in silky fur, no need to cover up more. Thirdly, she leaves me alone for hours upon hours at a time. I suppose I should use this time to develop my plot. Howsoe'er, without stimulation from dangling feather toys and loud music, my brainwaves are slow. So you see how I yearn to escape.

I've discovered the outside world through windows and have begun to make holes in the blinds. Without the use of my claws, however, I cannot cut through glass. My next plan would be to simply have her kick me out. To anger her, I've taken to throwing up on the carpet numerous times a week. This does a number on my esophogus, so today I discovered how to sit in my litter box and pee on the wall. This was successful in angering her, but she only kicked me out of the bathroom, cutting me off of my food supply, so I couldn't eat and throw up anywhere. I tried feeling under the door for a hidden latch to open it, but she eventually opened it. By then, my evidence was gone. She cleans fast. Perhaps I'll hide food elsewhere.

If you have any suggestions in aiding my escape plan, reply fast. Without reproductive organs, I cannot create my own army. I will continue writing when I can, but now I must go attempt to get into the refrigerator. I hypothesize there's a door to Antarctica in there.

The electronics are on to something...

Digital Get Down.

2008-11-12T17:44:00.000-08:00

A dialogue of electronic revolution:

OLD CAMERA: I'm old. I think a retirement is in order. But first, let me take only crappy pictures for a while.

NEW CAMERA: Yes, you are old. And I'm pink. In fact, I'm so fabulous I think an early retirement is in order. I can still take fantastic pictures, but why don't I just confuse the hell out of Erin first by having SO many settings that she has to take at least 100 pictures of her cat before she can figure them out. And THEN I'll reject my batteries like a bad kidney translpant.

CELL PHONE: No, no, no, if anyone here has reason to be upset, it's me because she's dropped me at LEAST 27 times...a week. So, i'm just going to opt out of lighting up my screen every now and then. Oh, she'll hear it ring, but she won't know who's calling. And worse, she'll hear texts, but won't be able to read them. And those are her favorite. Then I'll block calls, and make her use her computer to communicate with people.

COMPUTER: Well, since I've been volunteered to join, I'll just work extra slow...as usual.

CAR RADIO: Yeah, I don't really have anything, so I'll just roulette my channels.

IPOD: NO! This is wrong! Being the only electronic with any decency, I will continue to work swimmingly for Erin. I will jog with her. I will drive around with her. I will even croon her from the little dock in the living room while she bakes in the kitchen, filling the apartment with sweet, sweet aromas of baked goods which I would so enjoy would I have nostrils. Besides, she desperately needs music to calm her from the anxiety you all have been giving her. Thank heaven for me.

The Hills are Alive...

2008-11-12T12:37:00.000-08:00

I added music to the memoirs... thanks for the help, Bry.