I Keep Cutting Off The Top Of Kansas' Head

What's up, people? I'm watching TV. It's Daily Show time. I'm not even sure if I have the dual attention span required to blog. We'll see.

So I see that England has pulled through despite the powerful hoodoo curse. Yes...that's what I think caused the great Great Britain flooding...hoodoo. I think two years after Katrina with almost no tangible restitution some hoodoo priests and priestesses got together to curse the pastiest country they could think of. Behold...the power of bedevilment.

A year ago around this time I posted a post, that I won't bother with going back to find, with a picture of just of my legs and a beer...the beer being held up by my legs, obviously...at an outdoor concert. I've decided to make that an annual thing. From now on, it's not summer until I post a picture of my knees holding up a beer in a park. There's no tradition like a new tradition.

This year I was wearing a skirt and I didn't shave my legs that day (it was a Sunday, get off my back) so it's about the least attractive angle I can possibly imagine...but I can hold the season back no longer. It will be announced. And so, without further ado...I give you, the official announcement of summer:


It appears as though those knees have never seen the light of day. Well you're not far off.

That Dutch beer tasted just like Pabst. Seriously.

Pinkie RIP!

I broke my pinkie toe. Don't you think "pinkie" should be spelled "pinky"? I do too. So I was doing a little dance-glide through the not-so-spacious living room when my little rebellious pinky toe, which absolutely REFUSED to keep up with the others, took a little side trip on the metal part of the foot stool. And SNAP! It was gross, people.

Turns out I no longer own the first aid kit I got from my dad when I graduated high school...9 years ago...so I had to tape up my toes with corn prevention tape. Is it strange that I had the one thing and not the other? I don't know.

I've been given a laptop for my new job that I must attach to my hip and never be without. It feels like a tracking device. I might run. I might just freak out and run.

But I'll probably get shanghaied and wake up in The Village.

Today they were handing out free root beer floats in Pioneer Square (pictured above...the Square, not the floats). They weren't served in thimbles as originally feared...they were a good 12oz. cup size. It was glorious. The Square is known as "Portland's Living Room". I had no idea this was the case until just now when I was looking pictures up on Google Images. I'm wondering where "Portland's Bathroom" is located. And "Portland's Kitchen" too, for that matter. Strange.

This city's citizens are weird about doing things with each other. There's always these official "activities" to bring us to the "Living Room". Like...we have an annual pillow fight. And we all gather to light a giant Christmas Tree, etc. I resent these forced activities...not so much because of the forced socialization...but more because I usually forget about them til after they've already happened so I feel resentful and left out. That's why I'm glad I caught the Free Root Beer Float day. Inclusion. And ice cream. And root beer.

Why I Sometimes Shouldn't Be Allowed To Write

I was going to write about how much my job sucks, but I've just finished watching The Colbert Report...I'm most of the way through an overfilled glass of Merlot...and Kansas is rubbing my back. Suddenly can't seem to find the will to bitch about how I'm being told that the job that I've devoted several years and countless hours to is "unnecessary". Grrrrrr.

Hold on, I need to refill...

Have you had a Charleston Chew lately? Deeelightful, they are. I don't know exactly what nougat is...but like the invention of polyester...I welcome it with open arms.

Usually I need to have something to look forward to to get through my days at work. Something big that I can only achieve by schlepping my sleepy ass to a place that provides me with a paycheck every two weeks. Something like a vacation. My last vacation was to Morocco last October. Though that trip didn't turn out the way I imagined...it was still incredible. It was also a useful exercise in discovering who I needed in my life and who I didn't. And, most importantly, it allowed me to put my saucy red Diesel sneakers to the ultimate test...the Sahara. They passed with flying colors. Well...the colors are a might dingier now...but you get the idea.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is that what I think I've been missing from my life for the past several months is a new mission. A new vacation to work toward. And now I have one. In February Kansas and I are going to spend our 1-year anniversary traveling through the Czech Republic, Hungary and Romania. To say I'm excited would be an understatement. But to be honest...the last time I traveled with someone, it didn't go over so well, so there is some nervousness there. Of course, if Kansas decides to leave me in the middle of Bucharest...well, let's just say he'd be going home with one less limb. And not one of the four you'd expect.

Sorry...got a little carried away there. Damn corner store Merlot. But I tell you all this for a reason. I've been to the Czech Republic. Went when I was 17 and more concerned with drinking vodka in the square than seeing the sites, but, you know, I saw the major things. However, I've never been to Hungary or Romania. If anyone out there has and they know of anywhere I MUST see, or anywhere I MUST stay or any place I MUST eat...you MUST let me know. Lawd, I'm just SO dramatic.

Peace out bitches...I'm getting a cookie.

Speaking of Stupid...

I wore the below shoes Friday night for a bout of fuck-it-all clubbing. Cute, right? Yeah...for about an hour. After that, they're just pain. Pain with a pointy toe. After 3 hours I pretty much had to be carried. But no one would carry me...so I started to do this strange little shuffle-walk. By then it was 2 AM and I was done. DONE, I tell you!
Speaking of stupid...Now that Paris has made prison all the rage...the other twit-celebs are quickly following suit. The latest to don the telltale stripes? Lindsay Lohan! In a move that makes me shudder in revulsion when I think of our government's legal system...Lindz had to turn herself in for the May DUI and hit and run accident she was oh-so-underagedly-involved in. Perhaps some of you remember this lovely pictorial memento of the occasion:Actually...I don't think the above picture was from the hit-n-run night...but I wanted an excuse to use it. It's too priceless. So yes...any other underage drunk driver who gets into an accident and then runs away with it would usually be arrested on the spot. But NO! Several months have to pass until Paris proves that jail is for cool kids and then all the delinquent divas are LINING UP to get their booking pics taken. Everyone knows the precinct in downtown LA has the most flattering lighting.

So yeah...as a great man once said, "stupid is as stupid does". And although I have no idea what that statement actually means...I couldn't agree with it more. So will Lindz learn from her mistakes and stop all the carousing and brouhahaing long enough to try to make a serious go at acting? Or will the remake of The Parent Trap continue to stand as the best representation of her body of work? Only time will tell.

As for me and my stupidity...well...the shoes are fuckin' hot, so I'll keep wearing them until all the nerve endings in my feet die and I no longer feel pain.

Thank you and good night.

Well...damnit.

For the second time I have been awarded the Rockin' Girl Blogger award. This time it was from Macoosh...the previous time from Thinker. You're supposed to then go and nominate 5 girl bloggers of your own and then you may display the award in your sidebar. Though I was very grateful for the award and the darling things that were said about me...I didn't like the idea of having to pick and choose people on my blog roll in a way that would leave anyone (with two X chromosomes) out. So...I have decided that I can ignore it no longer. The award is here...and it's going to stay. What I will do in return is list all the female bloggers on my sidebar and give them a tagline that will hopefully inspire you to check them out for yourselves...for as far as I'm concerned...they should all be able to display the award proudly and with a colorful background. My, but this paragraph has gotten lengthy.

Sweet Gherkins! - the Waif is my sister...and the co-host of the almost dead CondiCast.

Frogs' Legs Aren't Funny - the Future is my mum...and is the Queen of the Non Sequitur.

Blog This - Jen is my workmate...a fellow shoe whore with a certain type of voice that is only reserved for basketball games and loud neighbors.

Reflection of a Dream - Macoosh is living MY life and I want it back!

Diary of an Incomplete Woman - cousin to Macoosh...she has had her eyebrows removed via methods far more unnatural than tweezing.

The Constant Whiner - Jill whines a whole hell of a lot less than I do...but when she does...she usually has a better reason...and at some point, she's fixing me a drink.

Dogs Are My Life - Kendra is saving the world one puppy at a time.

What's a Blog? - These are Sarah's gems...and I'm not just referring to her children...oh no...there's so much more.

Open-faced Club Sandwich - Fro is a vegetarian who knows how to pick her battles...with killer whales and trolls.

Not Enough Time in the Day - There really isn't for Em, as her days tend to exhaust me second hand.

Susie Q's To Dos - Sue and her completely unique outlook on life surprises me every time...like a jack in the box but less scary.

Theory of Thought - If I knew then what she knows now at the age I was then...well I would've been a lot more like the Thinker...but I wasn't...so that makes her special.

This is You Reading About Me...or Not - YinYang is the perfect balance of herself...seriously, see for yourself.

The Problem-child Bride - Sam lives in her own fantastical world...and sometimes she lets you in for a visit...if you're very very lucky.

Sheep in Trees - Nic and the Short do NOT live in a forest...as previously thought...but that doesn't matter because she's got it all figured out, you know?

Phosgraphis - This woman is not afraid to say what she feels and act on what she believes.

Rock on.

Crock Pots Are A Crock

Is no one else alarmed by the idea that something can take a full 8 hours to cook? Doesn't that seem like an exorbitant amount of time? For anything. And who figured this out before the whole invention of the crock pot? Who sat over a pot and stirred chicken on a low flame for 8 hours? Is that seriously what women did before earning the right to vote? Fuck. No wonder they were willing to march in corsets.

It was really quite stupid to try to cook in a crock pot on a Sunday in the heat of the summer. It's up there with baking cookies. Mmmm, cookies. What was I talking about? Oh...meat. Anyway...it freaks my shit out that these ingredients sit and stew in their own botchulistic juices. Of course that's a word. And then we eat them and don't die. Fascinating.

So I took the job. I'm moving into Account Management in a week. I'm officially a whore for money. All principles thrown out the window at the prospect of being able to afford a home of my own someday. What's happened to me? What happened to the girl who could pack up two suitcases and move across the country or throw on a backpack and hit Europe like she owned it? Well...I'll tell you one thing...the exchange rate happened. This war has been a bitch for tourism. Could that have sounded any more callous and selfish? Probably not.

What can I say, you know? I have needs. Footwear needs. Student Loan Repayment needs. Laptop needs. Paid PTO needs. I've sold out and become a fucking adult. Please don't read that as a verb. This promotion has been the hardest decision I've had to make in a long time. I've been with my company for almost 4 years and I hate who they are, what they do and what they stand for (which is not fucking much other than lining their own poorly dresses pockets). But I left teaching preschool because I couldn't make a living wage. And now I make a living wage and I can't seem to be satisfied with that. I want it to go up and up. I want to keep up with the Jones'...and I secretly despise myself for it. And yet, here I am. I bought $20 shampoo yesterday. Like my toddler hair is worth it.

Sorry for the mood. I've been listening to a lot of Jeff Buckley lately and Kansas has had to be away a lot for work. The two are a lethal combination for even the most high-spirited. I need a good long night out of dancing. Release some endorphins or some junk. It might feel good to get out and judge some people. It's always uplifting to point out those who are "not up to code". You know?