Why I'm the best Maid of Honor ever. Or atleast the most annoying.

Text from Amie(Bride): Hello Bridal Party! I have finally decided on a venue! We need to schedule a showing from the wedding planner they have provided. I need to know which days work best for you guys. I was thinking Wednesday, November 7th at noon. Let me know if this works for everyone!

Reply from me: Hello, Bride! That all sounds good except November 7th is a Monday. Are we talking November 7th of 2013? Cause I'm pretty sure that'll be a Wednesday.

Amie: I meant November 2nd. Of this year. Ha ha.

Me: That's good cause I just looked it up and Nov. 7th, 2013 will actually be a Thursday because of the leap year. I would suggest manipulation of the space-time continuum, but that can get so tricky when it involves a leap year. We might end up having to travel to the past to make sure our parents meet so we end up being born. And that seems like alot of work, besides the difficulty of finding a space traveling car in this day and age when everyone knows those were popular in the 80's. So we should probably just stick with Nov. 2nd, 2012.

Amie: This year. November 2, 2011. Like in a few weeks. You are so strange.

Me: Oh, that's good cause I just realized Nov, 2nd, 2012 won't be a Monday, either! This is getting complicated.

Curiously, Amie was not amused by this exchange. I think it was more a mix of bewilderment and growing irritation. The wedding isn't for another two years, though, so she has plenty of time to regret asking me to be her maid of honor and/or kill me and make sure no one finds my body until after the wedding.

The Perils of Retail

It's that time of year again when we reflect on what those things in our lives for which we are thankful. Personally, I'm thankful that my mom was like an EZ bake oven when it came to having kids so I have such a wonderfully big family(And not by polygamy, a fact which I am also thankful for cause polygamy is whack).
I am also thankful that I'm not where I was this time last year i.e. still enduring the purgatory that is retail during the Christmas season(well, retail at any point really, but especially then). More specifically, the raging, soul-consuming, Dante's Inferno-type hell that is the Christmas Tree Shop during the Christmas season. Quiver in fear, mortal, here there be dragons. And by dragons I mean really mean old ladies, the Christmas Tree Shop being their Nirvana.
Now, I'm not implying that if you shop there you are a. an old person, or b. the devil masquerading in old woman's clothing, but you probably have bought some really cheap crap that wasn't worth the 'bargain' price you paid for it. That's not the issue here, though. The issue is that working there may have actually corroded vital pieces of my soul. Like, peace and goodwill toward all mankind. It's been replaced by snarkiness and down right suspicion of old people. Okay okay, I may have been a teensy bit snarky before the retail incident, but never let it be said I didn't love themz old people. Now... well, there are no words for the trauma I endured there. Except for maybe that one i just used; trauma, and pain and possibly fiery burning pit of hell. And glitter.

Faucets and other deep things

I had to write a poem for school. So I wrote a poem. About not wanting to write a poem... is that even grammatically correct? Oh well, here it is. Prepare yourself, there's lots of deep questions ahead.

To be made to write a poem,
To be forced.
Where is the beauty in such an action,
Where is the soul?
Is there freedom of speech
In being told how to speak?
Can creativity to provoked to life,
Like a machine?
Is the soul just a faucet,
to be turned on or off?

Note: Our soul is the faucet and the world is a sink. Sometimes it gets filled with dirty dished and the drain gets clogged, but all you need is a little soap. And maybe one of those scrubby things. Oh, and one of those garbage disposal thingies, too. You should get one.

Things I learned in Washington D.C.

I know it's a little late seeing as I went to Washington a month ago, but whatever. You people have nothing better to do and I'm lazy. Enjoy.

1. Nine hours in the car is a v. long time.
2. Disturbing of the cherry blossoms is prohibited. We must be respectful of the cherry blossoms.
3. Your camera will always die just before you get to anything you really want a picture of.
4. Pedestrians do not have the right of way/beware of fast-moving tour buses.
5. There is alot of naked-ness going on in Washington architecture.
6. Your mother will not appreciate you taking a close-up picture of naked male statues. It was a joke, mom!
7. No matter how many times you try, the people in business suits will not smile back. This actually applies to pretty much everyone who lives in D.C.
8. Giant brass statues are very impressive when coupled with copious amounts of marble.
9. Washington D.C. is not a part of Virginia or Maryland. It is it's own district. Hence, District of Columbia. By the way, it was a random smiling short-wearing passer-by who told us this. It not a guy in a suit. Politicians really are useless.
10. Cafeteria food is gross, no matter what state, or district, you're in.
11. It is possible to fall asleep while standing.
12. Apparently, there is a Orthodox Jew Day at the Smithsonian in the end of April. So many frontlets...Actually, I'm just guessing that those curls that they wear are called that.
13. Abraham Lincoln looks kind of sad up there on his chair. Poor Abe.
14. If the most annoying kid in the group is left behind at the Smithsonian, no one will appreciate you're opinion that God is trying to tell you something/survival of the fittest.
15. If you tour guide has completely painted-on eyebrows, chances are you are in for a v. long slightly bizarre tour. Especially when said eyebrows are not the same shape.
16. If you want to be mocked behind your back, try to tell a bunch of teenager something intelligent that may better their lives.
17. Standing in a parking spot does not count as saving it. People will try to run you over.
18. Road trips can be fun. They can can also make you contemplate murder. And possibly suicide.
19. Virginia have very big malls.
20. Silence can be v. moving i.e. changing of the guards.
21. Everyone and their mom has a statue.
22. After walking all day, if someone says the bus got towed, resist the urge to laugh. They probably won't be joking.
23. If you leave your cell phone at one of the many security checks, the guards there will very helpfully call your mommy.
24. New Jersey traffic does not necessarily just apply to New Jersey. Ditto with New York.
25. Founding Fathers were v. smart. Most of the time.
26. I like using v. Makes me feel witty.

That last one I didn't actually learn in Washington. I learned it just now.

The Fish Story

I gots me a story. It's bout a fish dat was dis big!... No, but it is about a fish. So'z, I walking in some(thorn infested)woods(in a skirt and heels) with Myself(Aka my friend Katie G-no really, I'm not a skitzo) after school today and we seez this tree with this other tree all wrapped around it-like. It looked alot like a really big snake coiling around the tree. So we(Myself and I) started talking about how a snake could have happened to be turned into a tree. (For some misdeed, perhaps?) And somehow it was established that the tree snake had started out as a fish. And so I am bored enough to present the story of the tree snake-or fish-or whatever.

Once upon a time there was a wood and through that wood flowed a river and in that river swam a fish. Of all the fish in the river, he was the quickest and the most graceful. He knew he could swim faster, longer than any of his fellows and his heart swelled with pride. He was often cold and unkind to the slower, clumsier fish. Was he not the fastest? Was he not the most graceful of all the fish in that river? Why should he consent to talk to these fish that were lesser than he? One day as he was doing his fish-business, something above the surface of the water caught his eye. It was a beautiful bird perched in a branch overhanging the river. What magnificent feathers it had! And listen to the beautiful song it sung! The fish knew if he could but be such a bird all the other creatures of the wood would envy him and his heart burned with jealousy. This jealousy poisoned his heart and he began to sicken.
Be grateful for what you have, the other fish told him. If you are greedy for things you cannot have you will meet a sorry end, they said. But the fish closed his ears to their wisdom.
Now, the wood through which ran a river in which swam a fish was very old and accordingly there lived there a fairy who acted as the Woodland Guardian. (For in the old days it was a matter of course to have a Woodland Guardian for every woodland.) She was very kind and when she saw the fish’s misery she anxious to do her duty. She turned the fish into the form of the bird he so desired.
I am more beautiful than all the other creatures in the wood, sang the-bird-who-was-once-a-fish. See how all the other birds envy me! As he flew through the forest trilling his song, he spied a pile of seeds and berries and other things good for birds to eat. Don’t go there, said the little sparrow, it’s dangerous. The bird ignored the sparrow. What did a drab little bird like that know that he, the most beautiful bird in the entire wood, did not? But when he fluttered down to the seeds and berries laid out on the forest floor; SNAP! A cage closed around him like the jaws of death.
Oh, I shall die, he moaned, fluttering his bright wings in fear. If only I was strong, like a snake, I should break this cage and slither away. The Guardian heard his cries of fear and came to him.
Did you not ask me to change you into a bird? She asked.
Yes, moaned the bird, but if you do not change me, I shall die! The Guardian was moved with pity for the foolish little bird and granted him his second request.
But no more will I grant you these favors; you must now be content with yourself, said the Guardian and then she was gone.
The snake-who-was-once-a-bird broke the cage with his strong body and slithered away into the forest. He came upon a warm stone by the river.
What a miserable life I have, he said, I slither around all day, eating dirt. If only I was a fish again, fast and graceful! I was the most wonderful fish ever to swim that river. Again, the Guardian heard the snake and she was angry at his ungratefulness.
Have I not granted you favor after favor? She demanded. Whatever you asked, I gave you. First I gave you speed as a fish, but you wanted beauty. This too I gave you. And when your foolishness landed you in danger, you asked me to give you strength to escape. This you also received. But no more, now I give you none of these things! Instead, I curse you to forever to be neither swift nor beautiful nor strong. The Guardian’s angry words frightened the snake and seeking to escape, he coiled around a tree. But as the Guardian spoke, her words rose in volume until with a great noise, the snake-who-was-once-a-bird-who-was-once-a-fish began to change. His scales turned brown and rough like the bark of the tree he hugged and the powerful muscles of his body turned hard. In a moment he was a coiled vine, wrapped forever around the trunk of the tree beside the river. There he stood as a reminder to *listen to sparrows and don’t be mean to the other fish.

*Just kidding. I'm not really sure how to end it without being nauseatingly cliche. Any suggestions?

** This is a lie. I will in all probability most likely never finish this story.
Such is the way of procrastinating ne'er-do-wells such as myself.

Blabbity bla bla

Okay, I kind of lied in that last post. When I attempted to become a hermit very little, if any, hilarity ensued. You see, there aren't any caves located near me(believe me, I looked) so that option was out. And after my mother refused to deliver food to my room, which I'd chosen as the location for my hermitage, I quickly learned that it's very difficult to survive solely on oreo's and ice tea as rations. Especially when you run out of said rations. I wouldn't have believed this if I hadn't experienced it myself, but take it from me, reader, it's the terrible truth. However, this was not the reason that I came out of my self-imposed exile. Nor was it the fact that I ran out of new books to read. Oh no, I have much more self-control and strength of character than that. No, it was because I realized that people had to be writing all those great books I like so maybe, just maybe, there was hope for humanity after all(since then I have realized my mistake). Yes, reader, it was in celebration of the good things in life that I left my hermitage behind me. For earl gray, batman, and trips to the library. So never forget blabblity bla bla... yeah, just insert something profound in there. I didn't really learn anything except my mother doesn't love me(on account of not delivering me food).

Misery Loves Its Company

So I lost my job after only three days. Big deal. I was too good for that place anyway(Sorry, Amie-chan). I could tell you that it was because of an incident involving a latte machine, three cheese bagels, and a goat named Sam, but that would be a lie. A lie that's more interesting that the truth, but a lie nonetheless.
The Real Story, as told by the victim - me: It was Saturday morning, and I was manning the register at My Favorite Muffin and Bagel Cafe. Yup, that's me in the corner, over a little to the left... there I am. I'm the one snoring. Anyways, there I am, minding my own business when Charlie comes over(you remember the one, express train to senile land. Yeah, that's right I said it. Go ahead and read it Charlie! I am no longer under your heavy fist of tyranny! Na na!) and says "I'm stuuupid." No wait, sorry that's what he said in my head. What he really said was "You obviously don't want to be here. Why don't you clock out and you can come back on Thursday and get your paycheck." Er, well okay then, Charlie. If you insist. I don't want to say I left there with a smile on my face, because... I didn't. But I smiled on the inside. I also thought about how I'd missed breakfast and those blueberry muffins were smelling really good. Maybe I should have dashed back in, grabbed one the muffins and spat in Charlie's face, cackling madly all the while. That would have been entertaining. And slightly bizarre. Story of my life right there.
Something good happened this week too, though. I just happened to be in Barnes&Noble, mooching (now that I don't have a job and therefore cannot support my book addiction I am forced to resort to skulking around the bookshelves and getting eye prints all over the pages. Not much has changed.) when I happened to catch sight of a certain book. At this point, I'm certain that it was a divine act that drew my eyes to that bottom shelf. What did I see, you ask? I saw...[drum roll, please] Blade of Fire-the 2nd book in the Icemark Chronicles!! Wooo! I didn't even know he was writing another one so when I saw that hardcover book I nearly cried for joy. Then I cried because I remembered I didn't have any money. Luckily, my library had just ordered it. There is nothing quite like finding out there's a sequel to a book you really liked. And that it isn't crap. I also read the second book in the Dreamhunter's Duet by Elizabeth Knox(yay, Australian), Dreamquake. It was good.
I'm content. For now.
Oh, and I made pie.