To Blog, Perchance To Dream

Another one of those blog titles that has nothing to do with the post, but for some reason my fingers typed it out anyway.

They kind of run the show, so there’s not a lot I can do about it.

Thoughts:

1. Why does Google Blogger suddenly decide to ignore my spacing?

I hit *enter, Yo! Why you gotta mess up my game?!?!?!

The spacing of this post is fucked up, but it doesn't seem like there's anything I can do about it. My apologies.

2. Sometimes I wonder how much food, in crumb form, is trapped beneath the keys on my keyboard. I know for a fact that somewhere down there is the better portion of a cupcake, copious amounts of granola, and about half a tablespoon of feta cheese from a botched attempt to stir my Wawa chicken cherry walnut salad earlier this week. I’ve also noticed that my office chair is smudged with various food stuffs that have been dropped from my desk, onto my lap, and eventually onto the chair, where I’ve sat on them and essentially decoupaged them into the pleather.

And I wonder why the cleaning people hate me…
[Editor’s note: I just spilled yogurt on my pants. I’m a hot mess]

3. Curly hair and summer humidity DO NOT MIX. I know everybody already knows this, but it begs to be reiterated, considering the current state of my hair.

4. I seriously need to start working out again. I was doing SO GOOD and then *BAM* we decide to get married and I’m all “gotta plan the wedding” and before you know it, two weeks have gone by and I’ve barely broken a sweat. Isn’t that the exact opposite of what brides are supposed to do? At this rate, I’m destined to be a fatty-fat-fat bride. What I need is a Ghost of Weddings Yet To Come to swoop in and show me a wedding where I can’t zip up my dress because I’ve gained 15 lbs and to say “if you continue at your present course, this is what will happen to you.” And then I wake up screaming into my pillow, fall out of bed, ask the 19th century street urchin outside my window what day it is, rejoice that there is time to undo this horrible future, and run to the gym post-haste. Yeah, that’s exactly what I need.

5. Why is “caramel color” in the ingredients of my nonfat vanilla yogurt?

6. Milo ate my favorite bra last night. The women who read this blog can surely sympathize with me – it’s like losing your best friend in a horribly unexpected way, like a hit-and-run or a brain aneurysm. Tragic. I’m considering using duct tape to put it back together, but Brian has assured me that this could potentially take a little magic out of the bedroom. I’m weighing the pros and cons of this predicament as we speak.

7. People I’d like to shank:
Michael Vick
Rachael Ray
Sarah Jessica Parker
Various coworkers
Brian’s ex
The people who are pushing “skinny jeans” (I’m just not ready yet).

8. Sometimes I feel like man, by his very nature as a self-aware being, was destined to fail. And if that’s the case, then are we really set on some path that was predetermined the minute this universe was formed? And if that’s the case, is the future really predictable? And what role does "free will" play in this whole equation? I'd totally pay, like, $500 to know the answer right now.

9. I have a complicated relationship with tacos. For some reason, I associate ground beef and cheese with heartburn. I think when I was just a little kid, I ate tacos and then got a raging case of gastric reflux. Now, every time I see a taco, the rational part of me is like “you LIKE tacos, stupid” and the emotional part of me is going through some sort of post-traumatic stress-type event. Needless to say, I have mixed feelings about them, which is a shame, because I'm sure we could have had a beautiful relationship.

10. I’m pretty sure that we have a number of yet-to-be-discovered species of insects in our yard. As far as I can tell, the Amazon basin has NOTHING on our little 1.3 acre jungle. We don’t just have bugs. We have BUGZ. Holy god, you should see some of the things that come flying/scuttling/inching/crawling/slithering by. Spend 5 minutes in our yard, and you’ll have seen at least three bugs that make you doubt the existence of god. Truly horrifying. Oh, and that giant spider from Lord of the Rings? Yeah. She lives in the drainage pipe under our driveway. You’ve been warned.

One hour ‘till lunchtime.
Sweet.