8/04/2007

Hi.
Today is the perfect day.

It’s Saturday morning and I made Brian cuddle in bed with me for an hour while we watched every single channel on TV. Then our neighbor called and forced us out of bed because we had to go over and help her get a baby mouse out of the garage. I just love her. It was a total bonding moment and now I know I am not alone in the world of mouse hatred.

Now I’m sitting at my white kitchen table while Brian vaccums the entire basement. He plays guitar down there for about 3 hours every day and he says he doesn’t like all of the spiders. For me, it’s too early for any physical activity, so I decided to bring my laptop downstairs and alternate between working on a layout for the magazine and reading the latest issue of Domino Magazine. Brian made his famous weekend breakfast burritos and of course we had our homemade coffee. So delish. Some screamo band is blasting from the basement, but that’s okay because it makes me forget about my dream last night where my neighbor had suddenly purchased about 5 zoo-type animals, only they were all individually the size of dinosaurs. Like, her Tiger was about the size of a car. And they’d just roam freely between my yard and hers. Except I couldn’t go outside anymore, because her Polar Bear was just roaming the backyard and he was very blood-thirsty. She came over one day and I expressed the fact that I was scared for my life and I couldn’t go outside anymore. She got very angry and said that if I didn’t like her animals, then we couldn’t be friends anymore. That hurt me so bad, but just then our weird bald neighbor walked over and his face was all puffy and bandaged and he was on crutches. He had been attacked by this ladies wolf that was the size of a real-live refridgerator. He didn’t mind though. Even though he had crutches, too. Neither did she and we just weren’t friends after that and I was trapped in my house. I probably need to stop doing drugs before I go to bed.

Back to the nice day ahead of me. Brian and I are going to venture out to the Taste of West O.
Lots of food, live music, and shopping. We’re going to buy 300, and I’m going to look at some Macs.

Now for the good part of this posted. I had the honor of being tagged by Mare-Bear: Talented creative and professional blogger. Apparently, I need to write 8 interesting things about myself. So here goes, people:

1.) Anyone who knows me knows that I have an INSANE weird obsession with things getting in my eyes. I do not want it to happen. I feel like I need to wear goggles in real life. I don’t like water getting in them, whether it be from the shower or from the ocean. And I constantly am picking out make-up, eyelashes, etc. I have to always jump up and see a mirror because my biggest fear is that the eyelash will go down in the pink part in the corner and somehow find it’s way to the back of my eyeball and it will hurt forever because it’s rubbing on my optic nerve and then I will turn blind in five minutes. I will not ever open my eyes under water and just last week I set my Starbucks down and a little coffee drop splashed up into my eye and I totally freaked in front of a co-worker. One time at a Japanese steak house, they were making the fried rice in front of me and the cook managed to crack the egg while doing some fancy trick and some yolk flew right up into my eye, thus causing me to think I was going to die. I always constantly refer to myself as Gail Devers. I can’t put in my own eye drops and when I do, it is guaranteed to look like I am having a grand mal seizure.

2.) I actually listen to some pretty hard music. My favorite kind is when a lot of people scream in the background. This is weird, because I’m also into interior decorating, ice cream, and babysitting. I’ve been to a ton of concerts that have badly bruised me. I’ve been lifted up in the air and moshed to the front row where a bodyguard lifted me up and out and ran me back to the side. I’ve been to concerts where a lot of people bleed on you. (Mostly because of all the people, you get stuck next to the nasty guy that decides to not wear his shirt. Or deodorant.) I’ve also had a full grown man land right on my head. But God, I’ve been to some good concerts. Give me a good System of A Down song. Way better than any of that ButtRock that’s on the radio today.

3.) Uh, in Middle School I participated in the Optimist Speech Contest. They’d give you a motivational topic and you would write a 5-minute long speech about it and deliver it to the fellow Opitimist Club members. It was either in 6th or 7th grade, when I made it all the way to the state championships. I had won about 8 competitions and was sent to compete at the state level in front of about 300 people and had to have my speech completely memorized. It was kind of a big deal where I won some medals and was in the paper and stuff. And I did some sweet hand gestures. I didn’t win the final title, but that year I was considered one of the top 4 girl speakers in the state of Kansas. I owe that competition to the fact that I can now talk to anyone without being scared at all. Give a presentation? No problem. Talk to the strange guy at the bar with a cool mustache? I’m confident and I’m there.

4.) I could have it rain or snow every single day of the year. I don’t really like hot sunshiney weather. Maybe this stems from the fact that I was born in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I know you’re thinking I’m crazy, but give me a huge snowstorm where I can wear a sweater and drink warm coffee by the fire. Or give me a rainstorm and I’ll get so much accomplished and feel so happy. Give me a 90-degree day and I’m pissed off because I’m fat and I have to wear a tanktop.

5.) I don’t care what you think about this next one. I still sleep with a baby blanket. It’s official name is Animal Blanket. It’s perfectly soft and yellow and is good for extra coverage when your cold or snuggling up and a good sniff reminds you that everything’s okay. I bring it on every trip and I’ve had it since my first birthday when Gramma Ring gave it to me. Make fun of me all you want. I don’t care. I will sleep with that thing until I am well over 100 years old with children that have children. I want it buried with me. Woah. This paragraph just got creepy and morbid.

6.) I have a weird habit of tearing up my sandwich meat. I literally cannot eat a sandwich with whole lunch meat. It totally sicks me out. The turkey or ham has got to be shredded. Even when I’m making my own sandwich at home, I will rip it up into tiny little pieces. The tinier the better. My sandwich weirdness goes even deeper though. All growing up, my parents used to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like this: butter the two pieces of un-toasted bread, then on top of one buttered bread pieces with peanut butter and the other with cold jelly. Did we really need the bread buttered, Mom and Dad? Back then, that was just normal to us. Now it seems sick and wrong. But my Dad still eats potato chips with every meal. Even spaghetti. Yes, the Halls were the picture of health.

7.)I hate driving. Brian drives us anywhere. I don’t think I’m good at it and it makes me nervous. I wish we had a bus system or like a monorail in Omaha. When I took drivers ed with old Mr. Cooley, I remember getting behind the wheel for the first time. My parents would never let me practice before drivers ed. I literally did not think the car would fit into the street opening that I was going to turn into. But that’s cool, because then Mr. Cooley passed me on parallel parking when I blew it, let us drive with the radio on, gave us money for french fries at McDonalds and even tried to hook me up with fellow student, Troy Purdue.

8.) I used to be obsessed with Gymnastics. It was horribly unhealthy. Me and the Halls up the street would make out own meets, subscribe to Gymnast magazine, and watch all of the videos we could get our hands on. We bought leotards and even enrolled in gymnastics class. I didn’t really go to far, once I realized that I wasn’t too particularly comfortable with the amount of risk required to throw your body in the air and land on a two inch wide beam a few feet off the ground. That, and the fact that I was about 2 times taller than all of the teachers and when I’d try to do a back-bend, they’d drop me on my head because I was to large and wearing a neon unitard. I wish I still had some of those spandex leotards. Wouldn’t that be a treat.

Well, that brings this blog post to a close. In the amount of time it has taken me to post, Brian has finished vacuuming the basement and moved on to cleaning all of the windows and screens, inside and out, polished the windows, and is now caulking and sealing them. Maybe that little OCD talk we had last night didn’t really sink in.

I’m going to tag some people to do the 8 things. Since I barely have two friends in real life, hopefully these blog friends will read this and participate with 100% enthusiasm.

I tag you, Jones-Coleman, Laura (who needs to blog in the year 2007), The Anchored Nomad, and
Rachel “Greece” Johnson. Let’s get it going, you guys. Now, I have to pull myself away from the computer or something. I’ve got a hot episode of MTV’s Sweet Sixteen on my DVR.