Everybody Gets One

It’s official, having a star on the Walk of Fame is completely meaningless:

They gave one to Ricky Martin.

First, I thought maybe this wasn’t the real deal, maybe this was somewhere like, maybe St. Louis? But no. It’s the Hollywood one. I was going to stop by and be touristy there since I’ve never been, but it’s too tainted for me now. There’s only one solution:

I want one.

See, if there’s a case for Ricky Martin (Mr. Shake your Bon Bon) to achieve this, well, the rest of us are just one step closer. I’ll vote for you. We’ll all get one.


These Things Kill

There are a couple things right now I’m pretty sure are contributing to my death. As in, getting me closer to, sooner than is appropriate.

  • The water. The little filter must be out on the fridge, it tastes funny. Not as bad as the tap water, but I’m considering buying some bottled. Not to mention I drink too much of it and then feel bloated.
  • The Red Sox. Did they have to drag that out like that? Stressful. And it means I’ll have to watch more baseball.
  • Caffeine. I’ve had so little for so long, but for some reason lately have been pounding cups of coffee and Enviga. And getting the jitters. No more tolerance.
  • Lysol Disinfectant Wipes. This is basically just me complaining about cleaning.
  • The neighbors. I am most certainly not getting enough sleep to be prepared for my journey what with the obnoxious partiers this weekend. And last weekend. They’re total drug bingers, because they never went to sleep. It stayed noisy.

Isn’t that a lethal combination? I’m all jittery, tummy hurting, sleepy, and still have to get us out of here! Feel sorry for me, and I’ll add you to my will…

pity party of one

Drama queen pity party, blanket for one, please.

This Is What Winning Feels Like

Yay! Thanks to your three thousands of votes, I was declared the funny and witty champion for this post of mine. So I received world wide acclaim, a Celine Dion CD, Old Country Buffet gift certificates, some J Lo perfume, and the honor of selecting the next topic. Okay, maybe just that last one.

I asked everyone to talk about what t shirt they would wear, if it was the only thing in their wardrobe forever and ever amen. It could say one word. Lots of people wear t shirts, often with really ridiculous catchphrases and things on them, ranging from the wildly inappropriate, to the not funny if you’re not 12, and the just plain odd.
(Don’t click these links if you’re related to me, I don’t want to be grounded.)


The only t shirts with words on them in my closet these days either say “Texas” (college) or “Boston” (Red Sox). Sports t shirts I like. Otherwise, I’m not really one for trying to convey a message on a shirt. It’s like a more obnoxious bumper sticker without the 2500 lbs. of metal to protect you from someone who disagrees. I know, the debate is freedom of expression blah blah blah versus being tolerant of others blah blah blah.

If I had to buy one in existence, it would probably be this shirt, since this is the favorite word of my brothers and I. Not so much as to express apathy as to make us laugh when we’re telling stories. If I had to create my own, the word I’d define myself with permanently would be “humorous”, because I’d be fine even if I was the only one who thought so.

Here’s a t shirt quilt:

t shirt quilt

These are the posts eligible for votes and gifts of moldy cheese.

This is where you vote: cooltext65404898.gif

Firsts Over Lasts

It seems to me that doing things for the first time is more fun than doing them for the last. I’ve turned in my last library book, made the last trips to my favorite places, gone for the last car ride out to Bellevue. We’ve eaten our last Pike’s Place Chowder. Just like when we left Austin, we had to get it all in, although this time I haven’t gained 25 lbs.
I’m excited about our new firsts, but getting ready to go is bittersweet. I know I really like Seattle, I’m going to miss the new friends I’ve made, and I’m really going to miss my little gym. It all flew by so quickly.

MK and I canceled our Globo Gym memberships, there isn’t one near where we’ll be moving. I’m (sort of) two weeks in to this intense Body For Life routine (that guy is insane, certifiably, I can’t lift my arms) and well, it’s depressing to think the next place we’re at might not even have a gym…

So there’s the pros and cons.

Do you prefer the firsts in life, or the lasts?