the feeling is mutual, Halloween

I’ve never been a big fan of Halloween. I’m pretty sure I’m flying solo on that feeling, considering everyone I know on Facebook has currently stuffed themselves into a costume that barely fits and leaves little to the imagination. (Really… some things are better left unseen, people. Don’t go in public and let your bits and pieces flop around in the breeze.)

But, this year I decided I would give Halloween a chance. I got the candy to hand out. I got the pumpkins to carve for the first time ever. And, damn… after a few hours of fishing pumpkin guts out and carving with Alex — I was proud when I set them outside.

Then, I checked on them a few days later. On top of the pumpkins being completely moldy (that’s not snow)… half of the candy is gone already, too.

halloween2015

I tried to give you a chance, Halloween… but all you’ve done so far is leave me sad and fat. I guess I should just hide inside with the lights off, peering over the flashlight like a crazy person again this year.

(Really, though… I can’t be the only one who doesn’t like Halloween… or am I truly that much of an oddball?)

Also, a note to cat owners: please, please, please make sure your black cats (or any outdoor cats) are brought inside. There are some sick assholes out there.

eat my damn bread, ducks

I went on a jog today. I use that word loosely, considering I do more of an uncomfortable and frantic waddle… like my nether-region fell asleep after sitting on a bicycle too long.  (Seriously… how do cyclists handle it?) But, I love that it’s getting cooler out, so I figured I’d just put my big girl panties on and get to it.

On the neighborhood paths around here there are always ducks, making it a priority for me to stuff bread into my pockets before I head out. I truly enjoy when I get to feed the ducks. It’s pretty embarrassing because it’s always me… surrounded by a bunch of toddlers. Usually, I sit and wait for people to leave, but today I was in a time crunch so I weaseled my way right in front of them. Hell, it’s not like they are going to remember it this one time, anyway. Nobody remembers shit from when they were 3.

But when I got to them they completely ignored me and my bread. What the hell? This leads me to an important question: since dogs can sense when someone is upset, is it possible ducks can sense when someone is crazy?

I’m thinking yes. I should probably just leave it to the kids from now on.

crazyducks

some tuesday trivia

Fun Fact: The FDA estimates that the average human unintentionally eats up to a pound of bugs a year.

yum… did someone say extra protein?

Also, it’s come to my attention today is National Black Cat Day in the UK. I’m from the US… but, I have a cat. She is black. So, I’m going to force y’all to look at a picture of her anyway. You’re welcome.

blackcatday

when cold medicine makes you crazy

I woke up yesterday feeling like I was upchucked by Satan… which, I can’t say I was too disappointed about. It gave me a legitimate reason to do nothing but be a lazy sack all day. Score! But, as I laid here in a mush of blankets with tissues corkscrewed into nose (sexy, eh?) I discovered two things:

  1. I never add pictures to my posts. What the hell?  That’s boring and something that needs to be changed.
  2. Too much cold medicine makes you do weird things.

So… here’s a picture of my husband trying to shove himself into a pet carrier.

petcarrier

Why, you ask? Because why the hell not.

don’t be an ass in public, guys

People:
If you feel the need to berate and make an employee cry just because their store doesn’t carry your beloved organic, sugar-free, no-crap-added cranberry juice you deserve to have your ass kicked. Seriously. Aren’t there more pressing things going on in your life than juice? If not, kudos to you. But come on, guys… it doesn’t cost anything to not be a dick to strangers. Or to walk your ass to the other end of the shopping center and go to Trader Joe’s. The majority of us don’t enjoy making or watching other people cry in public, so get your shit straight or order your stuff online and stay home. It’d be appreciated.

Love,
The Public At Large

 

the joys of face-planting on a treadmill

Lately, I’ve been working hard to get my ass to jiggle a little less. And, you know, to avoid a heart attack or something. For the first time in my life I’ve actually enjoyed going to the gym. Until yesterday, when I face-planted mid sprint on a treadmill in front of fifty complete strangers.

Have any of y’all ever been to Planet Fitness where they have the “lunk alarm?” If you have no idea what I’m talking about — it’s an alarm the staff sounds off if there is a tool grunting loudly or dropping the free weights.

I was deep in the zone when the alarm sounded and, to be frank, it scared the shit out of me. It was the first time I’ve ever heard it so I spastically looked around to make sure there wasn’t an armed gunman. (This is America, after all. Gotta check for those things.) While in the process of sprinting & looking around, I lost my balance and fell face first onto the treadmill. The pain wasn’t the worst of it. I hit the woman next to me on the way down. Bit part of my lip causing it to swell twice its size almost instantly. Smashed my phone. And, to top it off, my shirt rode all the way up to my armpits. To a woman who’s new to the gym scene and trying to change her body… it was beyond mortifying.

I’ve started my day out today searching online for treadmill prices so I can run at home. Some of us shouldn’t be allowed to mix with the general population. For their safety and our own.

Do you have any embarrassing workout stories? Misery loves company!

don’t pay $65 for fake poop

On Sunday it rained all day — which is really becoming a straight pain in the ass here in North Carolina. We planned to hang out with two of our young nieces, so we let them decide what we were going to do since our original outside plan was foiled. Their decision? Dave & Busters. Why? Last time they were there they saw a fake poop in the arcade that they couldn’t live without winning. Now, originally I was all for this and I thought playing a bunch of games would be pretty fun… even if the endgame was a piece of plastic crap.

Wrong. Wrong on all accounts.

Our Dave & Busters is in our mall. I didn’t take into account it would be full of parents that want to shop on weekends but not deal with their kids. So, of course the easy answer was to let the arcade babysit them. There were dozens of them. Everywhere. 50 unsupervised preteens? Hell… it’s hell, I tell you. I have a new found respect for teachers. Bless your poor, patient souls.

Even worse, it cost $65 to earn enough tickets for the poop.

I’m not sure who’s worse. The parents who let their rude, loud kids ruin an expensive arcade? Or me, for spending $65 on a fake piece of shit I could buy for $5 at a store?

It’s me. The answer is me.