I'm one in a million. . .

So, I heard on the radio the other day (on Koz's kill a half hour, I think) that some overwhelming percentage (maybe half?) of American women buy at least one pair of shoes each month. So I guess I'm actually one in about seventy-four million. Thinking about it, I realized that the only reason I hadn't bought some for the month of August was because I was purposefully watching extra expenditures, and probably would have otherwise. But then I thought to myself "Let's see if I don't buy any at all this month", but not really TRYING to not buy them, just a curiosity. (when you're the only one in the office, you tend to think a lot of 'stuff' to yourself)

Anywyas, penny-pinching notwithstanding, I caved and bought sandals the other day. Not only are they against the not-really-embargo, they're too small to boot! (boot-sandals, ha!). . . I had coveted them earlier in the summer, but was upset that they did not come in half-sizes, so I decided against them. Tuesday, though, walking past a clearance rack (stupid, stupid navigation), I spied their doppelgangers, for a mere 11 dollars. Now, folks, let me tell you, that's less than half the price of the stubborn seven-eight conflict from June. Sadly, season change and price sticker alteration still did not conjure a seven and a half, but I bought them anywyas, and now have too-small sandals for my August purchase.



Shoulda got 'em in gold too. . . or a pedicure :)

Reality settles in..

Well, the apartment is basically settled and looks like a home. The downside? I have no one to play with in my new home. Yeah, I do have Adam and he's been wonderful and it's been great to spend time together after the long 6 weeks. But I miss my friends. It's a weird loneliness of knowing no one and not having anything to do. Adam starts his first job this week at Agency for the Performing Arts and it's a one-week thing. It's great he's starting to get some form of work as both of us being home all the time is slightly over-whelming. I can't wait to start work. I'm bored, really really bored. I have little to do and no more money left to spend, infact I have less than no more one, my credit cards are untouchable in my opinion. I keep thinking about getting a cat or a dog even though I can't afford it right now and i won't have time once I start working, But i know i'm lonely and want something.
So instead I bought plants today. We have this patio and we thought we should do something with it. So Adam bought Basil, Lavender, mint leaves and something else. I bought Sweet Pea, Bell pepper seeds and Serrano pepper seeds. I planted them this evening and seeing as i have nothing better to do I should be able to get something to grow, i hope.
We also finely got a grill!! Everywhere I went told me they were out of them, it's out of season! How, in a city with NO seasons, can something be OUT OF SEASON??? I didn't get it. But finally I sent Adam to Barbeque's Galore and they had one. Thank God! if a place like that doesn't have a small grill, who does?
So that's really the bulk of my excitement, which is really none at all. I need to meet people and do something. Really I just keep crying about not having any friends here to play with and it sucks. I wish i could transport you all here!
Okay, i'm done whining. Just needed to share.

False Sense of Productivity

so, I woulda brought this to sangria night or something, to show you guys my little sweater that I made, but, alas, this will have to be the forum. I finished it up last night before frantically packing my funeral wear (are you really still supposed to wear all black to funerals?) for Mr. Mister's uncle's funeral this weekend, and then crashing into my sweaty-sticky bed.

It looks really nothing like the pattern
was intentioned, and I kindof feel like
it's a little silly, but also its cute :)

So, obviously, you realize that this is
not me, so lose the confusion there
here's the designer's version:










And here's a little close up of mine. . .
the closeure is a pretty little hair pick
that sarah gave me. . . that i thought i'd
give a little chance since I can't use it right now:









It's obviously bigger than inteded (I actually think it kindof resembles football pads), but i've long thought the yarn was really pretty and its a finished product out of many starts with this yarn i've had for years and years. Makes me feel mildly accomplished, while the blanket that the stuff was purchased for (in 2001) still boasts about twelve inches of width in a basket on the universal shelving unit (ikea barf). Apparently, my filler for time in lieu of lovely lady friends (sounds like I run a harem) has become useless craft-ish projects. I don't even clean anymore.

At least I took out the garbage and rotten leftovers yesterday.

A Story fitting of Thursday.

Who's wearing their green today? THis creep was: (vehicle pictured is just a doppelganger)

At f-ing seven fifteen in the morning, I pull into a huge cheapo gas station (bargeway or something. $2.7799/83 octane) to fill my tank. There are two double sided banks of pumps, and I start to pull in nose-to-nose with this jacked up eighties bronco (think monster truck), and he starts to move forward. So, I assume he's finished pumping gas, and is pulling awway, so I sort of back up, and politely choose the other bank of pumps. Well, apparently he was just moving forward to better align himself with the nozzle, and proceeds to park and climb out and leer at me. I calmly avoid looking at him, and put myself behind the gas pump, out of his view.

While I'm headign in to get coffee, he makes some not-creepy-if-he-were'nt-creepo remark like "you're cute" as I rush past his gigantic white truck. Inside, I take my time getting coffee, picking a muffin, paying, listening to the staff gossip, chatting with the cashier, and as I finally head out, I see he's moved his vehicle to the opposide side of my gas pump. Fuck. Less than ten feet away from my car.

I rush around and take the nozzle out, push "no reciept" and try to get quickly into my car, and he's all, "what's your name, comeon, lets go out" while leaning acned crewcut out of his window fifteen feet off the ground shouting increasingly louder and angrier and when I don't respond (though I should have at least said "it's seven thirty in the morning, leave me the fuck alone, dude.") he angrily jeers "fine then, be a bitch" and squeals off. What?!! how does your being an intrusive dick lick reflect on my character or behavior?!!!!! eeew

I think NOT!

Like, you guys are so normal?

Further Evidence

. . .that neither Sarah nor Kelly are "off" for not feeling inspired. Or at least, you're not alone in Flailing For Finding Facund Feelings; Fearing Flimsy Futility. Fuckit. I fear (now i can't NOT use f-words) that this time should be when i'm MOST introspective, or spurred toward changes for the greater. . . um, anyways. besides all you guys making huge changes in your life for your carreers(mol, kel, sar, mik) , relationships (mol, sar, mik, packy), and home-bases (sar, kel, mik, again with the brother), i've just learned that my ex boyfriend is ENGAGED, and my best friend from college is PREGNANT, and my other best friend from college is deploying to IRAQ, and my sister's headed off to COLLEGE to possibly be the first graduate (if those useless older two didn't give her a bad example, grrr) . All this while I sit in my rapidly messy-ing (yes, it's a verb. to become cluttered) apartment, watching crap summer tv and cooking up unperishables. blech.

I guess what i mean is, we're all supposed to find that inspiration in ourselves. But, I'd rather leave the blame on others to be my muses.

sleepy hello

Going to keep this short as i'm soooo tired from driving. Today we were lucky and it only rained a little and it was fairly tame. Though we're headed towards storms right now and temperatures are rising as we head towards the Mojave Desert (estimated 103 everyday until sunday).
As for the blog and us and the distance. I think we'll be okay. I see the blog as our place to share our stories easily, comment, and gripe. I do agree it's a personal thing for us as a group and we do want to keep it to ourselves. Same reason we don't invite Julie or Katie H. to our girls night out. or even our boys for that matter. As for phonecalls and returning them. I know that when i comment on it, I only ever mean it in a harmless, not angry joking. I know you will all return my calls. But just like being in Chicago, we're all busy. but we'll never be forgotten to each other. There's no way that will happen for me. you girls are so crazy important to me and have been for 14 years! if we can survive the college trips away- a time when we all changed a lot- we can survive this. we're so much more mature than we were 7 years ago and so much smarter and we all see the value of these friendships.
I do not want to go through life without being able to share it with you all. So tough shit, i'm claiming you for life. Deal with it, i love you. Night chicas!

One Week Later. . .

i'm sad. i'm afraid we're all gonna start getting mad about this stupid blog, or about "why didn't you call me back", or something horrifyingly stupid. if we're gonna lose touch, i'd rather it be because everyone's lives are so wonderful and exciting that people across the country just don't seep nostalgically into our minds as often as they maybe ought to. someone tell me i'm just paranoid?

Yay!

Happy Birthday Mychela!

Welcome to your 25th year... Three down, two to go!