F*ck the running part; why did I have scissors in the first place?

You've probably all done this before when you were little too..."this" being fancying yourself a miniature hairdresser and cutting your own hair...a lot of it. Just going right to town with the scissors.

I know I have, and it wasn't pretty. I can actually remember doing it pretty well.

My parents were outside doing some yard work, and I was out there helping them. "Helping" them meant I most likely wasn't doing much of anything and instead was pondering what type of hairstyle I'd like to give myself that would work well with my facial structure. After careful deliberation and an exciting new look in mind (hacked, uneven bangs), I slipped inside unnoticed.

I padded into my room and found my lefty scissors...ya know, the ones that actually say "lefty" on them, are rusty, and have red handles. The perfect haircutting tool. And, I remember just casually sitting there over my garbage cutting away as I watched wads of hair drop into the wastebasket. Yep, things were shaping up nicely and everything was going according to plan!

Once done (I'm not really sure how I determined when I was "done"), outside I went. My parents both looked up and their facial expressions quickly changed as they noticed my new doo. But, just in case they hadn't, I said breezily, "notice anything different about me?"

Let's just say it wasn't the best (or the worst) haircut of my life.

I don't have any pics of it, but I did find a perfect photo on Google that looks fairly accurate (if this is your daughter, sorry for infringing on your rights)...red scissor handles and all! However, I'm pretty sure I looked less cry baby face-ish and way more smiley/ecstatic.

Friday the 13th!

Be careful today special people…it's Friday the 13th! 

During the last Friday the 13th, I was still "working" (very little working actually occurred, and at my hourly rate, it was more akin to volunteering) at H&R Block, and I thought I had made it through the day relatively unscathed. However, around the time same time I was thinking that, some genius decided to almost drive her car through the front windows of the store. Probably because she was so fired up to get her taxes done at such a fine establishment. Apparently, her side of the story was her sandal "fell off" completely randomly, and during this little shoe fiasco, she forgot which pedal was accelerate and which was stop. Therefore, the next thing she knew, she was up on the curb, fully rammed into a supportive structural pillar. She got a couple flat tires too. Oh, and, I'm pretty sure she didn't get any type of tax refund either. Poor betch.

Gee, I hope today goes smoother than that. 

Here is a tune to get your weekend started off right!

Want!

Since America is all about consumerism and buying things you don't need, here's a bunch of crap I want. Apparently I don't like anything the least bit colorful...

I was in a gang

This is a page from Ben's yearbook during his senior year of high school. It's one of the pages in the back that parents can purchase...either a full page, half page, whatever...and, most of the time, it's a little dedication to their child to tell them how wonderful they are in every possible way since it's just soooo darn hard to graduate high school. And, if your parents don't purchase a page for you or choose to advertise their business instead, those kids aren't really loved or their parents are just poor. It's definitely one of those two.

So, my parents bought a page for Ben... 

I know a few of my posts have been about nicknames, but I totally forgot all about our 'gang days'. I think it started with Ben and a couple of his friends...they all had fake gang names for each other. And, then our whole family got incorporated into it somehow.

My dad was Big Ned because he was the feared gang leader, and everyone else was Lil' something or other because they were low on the esteemed gang totem pole. My mom was Lil' Jess...at least that's what the yearbook says because they wouldn't publish curse words...her real name was Lil' :expletive: Jess (it's so highly racist inappropriate that I can't even mention it in my blog). My name was Lil' Peep, and Ben's name was Lil' Billy. Pretty threatening gang names.

And, we used to say "Yo yeh yeh!" a lot. Not sure where that came from, but I imagine it's a phrase many gang members use.

Sadly, the novelty and authenticity of being in a gang wears off pretty quickly once you realize you live in the rolling hills and one of the most rural parts of CT. You stroll into school (which, mind you, is regional with 3 towns and 6th-12th grade all present, because then it's almost enough kids for a real high school) feeling pretty damn sweet and gangster-ish, and then you see the tractors in the parking lot and the llamas in the backyard, and it's like oooooh yeahhhhh.

I made a delicious grilled cheese sandwich!

What's the good word my faithful 1-2 followers? 

I've been a little MIA lately because my family moved houses this weekend. Moving always sucks huge donkey balls...unless you're homeless, because then, as the word implies, you most likely don't have a home, and you probably don't have a vast assortment of belongings. You'd think it wouldn't be so bad for us because we moved from one furnished house to another furnished house, and therefore, we had very little furniture to move...just a bunch of clothes and random things. However, it still seemed pretty intense (and we needed a UHaul and what not)...especially in the throes of a Florida summer. All you really need to do is pick up one empty box, and instantly you have a pretty serious sweat moustache forming. So, we kinda packed on Friday, packed more and moved on Saturday, and unpacked all day on Sunday. Then, it was back to work on Monday. No rest for the weary when these Villagers need their online coupons!

That aside, the week before moving, I made pretty much the best grilled cheese sandwich on planet Earth...maybe even in the whole Milky Way galaxy. If you're a picky eater or enjoy monjing strictly on junk food, this will probably sound gross to you. But, if you have any sense or good taste, you would have found it delightful. Here is what was on it:

~ Two pieces of whole wheat bread

~ Pesto on both sides

~ 2 pieces of organic, low fat swiss cheese

~ Spinach

~ Tomato

~ Roasted red peppers

~ Avocado

~ Sprouts

~ Goat cheese

Fry that puppy up with a little olive oil spray or butter, and bam, flavor explosion/mouth orgasm.

An added benefit? It's vegetarian!

Christmas Socks

Sooo, I work from home. 

And, by home, I mean my parent's home. And, by my parent's home, I mean our landlord's home, which is fully furnished with more than everything we could possibly want/need times a bajillion. Or, maybe I will end up needing 34 pillows. I'm not sure. Maybe someday I'll get invited on a camping trip with a polygamous Mormon family and I can offer to bring the pillows. One can only hope.

At any rate, what does working from "home" mean? Christmas socks every day ya'll!

I actually don't wear too many socks or jeans in Florida. Usually it's flip flops and shorts...especially this time of year. This was just a rare day in which I was really gussied up. Clearly, I take my dress attire at work very seriously, so sometimes I go all out and go for the good stuff.

Seriously though, I know the fact that I work from home is a source of a little bit of jealousy for some of my friends. And, trust me, most of the time it's pretty awesome. The pros definitely outweigh the cons, and hopefully I'll be able to continue to work from home for a long while. But, that remains to be seen. There are so many things I'm able to do now that I could never even come close to doing at a regular job. I'm not going to list them all because it should be fairly obvious. So, even though there are some days where it's extremely annoying and frustrating for a wide variety of reasons, I'm really trying to enjoy it and take it all in while I can since it's quite a luxury. 

One of the things that's kind of annoying though is I have all these nice, dressy, "work" clothes that go to waste now. I'm not going to get all dressed up in a fucking skirt and blouse just to impress my parents and sit around at my computer at my house. So, I end up wearing a bunch of generic, boring clothes pajamas all day instead. It's not the most pleasant sight...pajamas, a bra if I'm feeling modest, no makeup, fake glasses, the whole nine. Oh, and my hair doesn't do too well in Florida...so, that usually looks pretty jacked up and frizzy as well. Altogether, it's the makings for an attractive look.

It's a wonder that, when the need arises, I'm still able to pull myself together fairly well and resemble a normal, contributing member of society.

(FYI, I'm exaggerating a wee bit...even though I do reside in central Florida, I'm not that much of a low life :said while taking a swig of Natural Ice:).

Monday's Music

I really like ALO (Animal Liberation Orchestra), and these songs in particular are just swell...

Happy Monday :-)