Pearl Harbor

Mark and Annie graciously took me to Pearl Harbor while in Honolulu and that meant getting up at 5am (gasp!!!) and going down to get in line at 6am to beat the hotel buses. It's a pretty good National Park, and you get to go for free and so I definitely recommend it. The video they show is downright diplomatic (Mark would later tell me that we paid big bucks to make sure that nobody could possibly be offended by the narrative), however due to the sheer volume of Japanese tourists, I thought we could have sprung for some Japaneses subtitles, jeez.

 

There is a lovely monument to the 1100+ naval officers who died on the USS Arizona, still submerged in the bay. It's built atop and does not touch the actual vessel, to show respect to the men who died there. You have to take a boat to see it.

 

 

You can't see it in these photos, but the water has an oily residue on the top and that's from the 1.5 million gallons of oil that was on the boat when it sank. .5 million gallons burned up immediately, another .5 million gallons burned up over the two days that the boat was on fire, and a remaining .5 million gallons is trapped below. It is seeping into the harbor at a rate of 1.5 gallons per day and has been for 70 years. They have made the decision not to remove the remaining oil because it's seeping so slowly, there is plenty of marine life on and around the sunken vessel, and they don't want to mess with the final resting place of 1100+ people. (Remember to never believe my statistics! In fact, when I first typed this, I put 150 million gallons but that didn't seem right...)

 

 

 

Inside the memorial is a beautiful stone-carved list of all the men who died. There are 23 sets of brothers here and one father-son. There were 335 survivors. Some survivors have opted to have their remains sent here so they can rest with their fellow crewmen. And so they have a ceremony where a diver takes their remains down to the vessel to insert them into a crack. Of the entire sad sad sad tour, it was that statement that made me cry.

 

 

 

 

While we visited Pearl Harbor, we paid another $25 to tour the USS Missouri, or the Mighty Mo':

 

A one-pigeon patriotic parade:

The most interesting thing about this vessel is that WWII ended on it, basically, when the Japanese surrendered in Tokyo Bay. The second-most interesting thing about this boat (in my opinion) is that it was still in use during the Iraq war in the 1990's. The third-most interesting thing about this boat (in my opinion) is that nobody ever died on it. The forth-most interesting thing (in my opinion) is that my friend Mark from high school was hired to be a Mighty Mo' tour guide two-and-a-half years ago and has yet to begin working. They told him he had the job but he had to wait until somebody quit. And nobody quits. In Hawaii, the job search is daunting and just because you get hired doesn't necessarily mean you'll be working, I guess. Get a mainlander who recently expatriated (ha) to explain it to you.

 

And a very not interesting thing at all is that they want all current visitors to go down the ladders backward and I can't do that so I had to disobey the rules and all the mainlander tourist grandmas who reprimanded me at each ladder "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GO DOWN BACKWARD!" and I always follow the rules but I had to be rebellious and say "I cannot do it, ma'am," every time, because I live in a loft bedroom at my parents' house and I have to go down that one forward too, even though my dad yells at me every time.

 

 

 

Stress on Vacation

 

Toilets are pretty advanced in Japan, as I've mentioned before. They will sing to you, they will wash your butt, or your front-butt, if you prefer, and sometimes they are a video game and you win if you hit the right targets with enough force.

 

But sometimes they are just downright practical, like the one pictured here. In order to save water and space, I think. The sink is attached and only activates itself when you flush. Which, for the anxious Minnesotan(!) only creates the following stresses:

 

1) hurry!

2) is the water dirty?!

3) hurry!

4) like, is it recycled poop-water?

5) it's attached to the toilet...

6) HURRY!!

 

 

Why is life so hard sometimes?

 

Motorcycle Gang

 

 

I'm in Hawaii and I'm staying with my friend Mark from high school and his adorable wife Annie. Better hosts you cannot find. Truly.

 

Today Annie let me use her moped to explore the island and after a pretty embarrassing gas mishap (I kept trying to fill it up with a faulty pump and in the end I realized the tank was full to begin with) I couldn't get it started. Mark was trying to get some schoolwork done and I tried asking all the idiots at the gas station (no offense or anything, I was one of the idiots after all) to no avail. I ended up having to call Mark. He came to my rescue, but in the meantime a German man came to my rescue first and he got it started. Apparently there's a "kill switch" which disables the starter and that switch was turned to ON. Whatever. There was no time to call mark with a JUST KIDDING and so he came to my rescue anyway and then got gas and then had me follow him to the beach. Just to be nice. Like I said, better hosts you will not find.

 

I decided we should start a motorcycle gang. At every stoplight I asked all the moped drivers if they wanted to join. They all said no. Whatever.

 

Anyway!

 

After just about the best day at Waikiki beach ever (lots and lots of butts to stare at - did I mention I love butts?), I got the old hog ready to ride home. I pulled up Mark and Annie's address on Google maps on my iPhone and set it in the little compartment that Mark told me not to put anything in, because if you hit a bump it could fall out. One-and-a-half blocks later, I noticed that my phone was missing. I panicked:

1. I had no idea how to get to Mark and Annie's.
2. I did not know their phone numbers.
3. My phone! I mean, who cares, you can replace them, but:
1. I have some very choice recordings on my phone that I didn't back up. Irreplaceable and so precious to me.

Here's what happened:

• Panicked, I pulled the moped up onto the sidewalk.
• I turned it off but did not chain it to anything (theft here is a big deal).
• I ran down the street, hoping to find my phone before it got run over by a car.
• I was hyperventilating about the recordings.
• A policeman asked me to "get out of the street ma'am."
• I retraced the entire block-and-a-half. No phone.
• A man named Al asked me what was wrong. I was sobbing. "I lost my phone! I don't know where I live here!" He offered to call it in case somebody picked it up. I was so distraught I just nodded, knowing nobody had picked it up. I gave him my number and he called it.
• Nobody answered.
• Dejected, I walked back to Annie's moped, sure that that same mean cop who told me to get out of the street had given me a ticket for parking it on the sidewalk.
• As I approached, I wondered 'maybe it just fell down more into that compartment.

 

Yep.

 

 

CALM. DOWN.

 

 

***P.s. Of course I called Al back and we talked for 20 minutes about how great it was that my phone wasn't lost after all. He told me that on his third day here he lost his wallet and so he related to the panic in my face and he wanted to help me so bad...Also a young couple happened to be standing by when I found the phone and I told them, "I have to tell you a story and you're not going to want to listen but I'm telling you anyway and you have to just listen because I'm like so stupid and relieved." They listened, like champs. They were also very happy for me! The end.

Pretty Girl

One of my favorite things about me is my Herpes Simplex 1. Remember me though? I'm unique! Have you even SEEN how I spell my name? Well- MY Herpes Simplex 1 is so unique that in fact that I've never gotten any on my lips or mouth, but rather, in and on my nose. I have been so lucky in recent years because most of the time I get them inside of my nose, and even though those ones are really painful (blowing my nose-ouch!), I prefer them because nobody can see them. Once in a great while though, and usually when I least want one (Maid of Honor at Kasey's wedding, vacation, etc.) I get them on the outside of my nose.

I got a real beauty last week in Japan. It has six clumps of blisters. Six! Yay!!

 

So nice to meet you!

Oh, yah. I forgot. Don't be scared!

 

 

I gotta tell you though. Japan was the perfect place to get one! Half the population walks around in these funny surgical masks. I thought they were for like prevention of colds and then I heard that people who have a cold don't want to spread it because they're polite or maybe they have bad allergies and THEN I heard that some people just don't want other people looking at them. Who knows? Who cares? Look at what a PERFECT Herpes Simplex 1 cover-up they make!

 

 

 

You can go real incognito, man.

 

My only complaint is that they're real hard to breathe in. I modified mine, and then another added bonus was that people could tell when I was smiling.

Dummy.

 

Hal-isms, Vol. 50

"I like the movies. But they could cut the boyfriend/girlfriend stuff."

"A stabbing? Body bags? Automatic weapons? That's scary, even to me."

"I hate it when women crap their pants and then stand around and cry about it."

"When I die I'm gonna take my $34, split it up as even as I can, give it to you kids, and then whatever's left we'll put an ad in the paper. 'Hal's dead. Chevy for sale.'"

Me: "I have a question about dairy cows."  Hal: (without waiting for the question) "Four teats."

The Coca-Cola Myth, As it Relates to "Certain" Poor Children in America

When you're a poor kid in America, it is assumed that all you drink is soda (from here I'll just call it 'pop', because that is what we call it in Minnesota) because it's so cheap or whatever. My seven-year-old self WISHED. Because. Not in the Hexum house circa 1980ish. 

I guess "so cheap" was still expensive for us. The other poor kids in our neighborhood got pop. We never got pop.

There was a permanent two-liter bottle of Coca-Cola in our house alright, but it was in the lazy suzan and it was for one thing and one thing only: mixer for my dad's Canadian Windsor whiskey. The same two-liter bottle of Coke would be in there for about a year, that's how much he drank and that's how much we kids knew to KEEP OUR DIRTY MITTS OFF IT.

If on the very off chance that one of the older Hexum kids was feeling generous, you might get some, once in a great while and you'd definitely have to share it and there was no way you could ever dream of ever having your own can of pop so just forget it.

There was a similar family to ours in a more southern Minnesota town and they had the same horror of a pop-free childhood. 

But one time and by some miracle, as one of them related to me, two of them got a pop to share. They were in the backseat of their family's vehicle, probably a station wagon, sharing that pop. While one would sip, the other would eagle-eyes glare at the sipper to make sure not too much sipping was happening. And then the pop was passed so that the glarer became the sipper and the sipper the glarer and so on. For an eternity they shared the pop, each sipping just a tiny bit and savoring it and then passing to the other. And then the driver of the station wagon (probably) took a sharp curve in the road and somehow the back door wasn't shut properly and out of the station wagon (probably) tumbled two children and a can of Coke. 

The narrator then told me that as her head hit the pavement her out-of-focus sideways view showed in the periphery: the station wagon (probably); the other kid, lying there, dazed; the driver, screaming, running toward her; but all she cared about, all she could focus on was the can of Coke, on its side, spilling that priceless nectar onto the ground.

Minnesota Stupid

You may recall that I became a vegetarian and promptly won a free turkey while shopping at Trader Joe's. What I didn't mention is that my childhood friend and co-worker was also shopping at the Trader Joe's. I saw her when I was checking out and told her that I "JUST WON A FREE TURKEY!" while jumping up and down of course. She pointed to her cart. She had also won a free turkey. (I didn't want to mention that right away because I wanted to seem like the only special one. Turns out I'm not special at all. But it was pretty incredible that only two people won turkeys and it was randomly she and I.)

I'm not special.

But that's not the point of this story.

The point of this story is that Tara and I are both born and bred in Minnesota, or Minnesota Nice which translates in most languages to passive aggressive or a complete inability to be honest about how we really feel and as such we both carried some anxiety about having won the free turkey. Mine was that I was unable to simply say "no, sorry, I'm a brand-new vegetarian. Please give it to someone else." 

Tara's, however, was of a different variety. You see, she had put some pre-cooked turkey breasts in her cart prior to winning the free turkey, and once she won the free turkey she no longer wanted or needed the other pre-cooked turkey breasts. She was on her way to put them back when a store employee offered to check her out. She didn't want him to know that she was putting something back because that might "hurt his feelings". She had to think quickly! She noticed from the corner of her eye a big chalk-drawn sign that said "FRESH SALSA". She told him that she needed some "FRESH SALSA" and would be right back. Then when he wasn't watching, she secretly put the pre-cooked turkey breasts back in the fridge. However, now she REALLY didn't want to "hurt his feelings" by NOT buying any "FRESH SALSA", so even though she didn't want it, she had to buy some.

Hal-isms, Vol. 49

"Is that like a weakness that I have, that I want to help people?"

"You're just a blossom. And they're like branches that whip you every time the wind blows. And if they'd just leave you alone you could grow. Instead it scars you. Your petals fall off."

"I have begged. I have laid in the middle of a highway."

"You can do that. You can also step in cow poop but that doesn't make it the right thing to do."

"I was asking your mother about fiber and she said it's carrots and stuff so I ate a carrot."

Pragmatism Isn't Compatible with Vegetarianism, I've Found.

I met a vegan late last year and he got me thinking about how gross eating meat is. So I decided, (knowing full well that I would fail within the first day because I have tried this before) to become a vegetarian. I had to wait until January 1^st though because it seemed totally normal to make it a resolution and also because I spent the last twelve days of December at my parents’ place and that house is pretty much the “house of meat”. There are dead animals hanging everywhere and also the freezer is just full.

Here is the story of my first two days as a vegetarian:

I woke up on January 1^st at my parents' and my mom made breakfast and I ate it. And then I remembered I was a vegetarian. Crap! (Venison.)

And then it was time to go home, but my car wouldn't start, because it was -25 degrees for four days straight. So I called the neighbor and he brought a flame-throwing heater machine and we pointed it at my engine, threw a tarp over the car to create a heat tent, and 45 minutes later my car finally started. But I was FREEZING from being outside for 45 minutes in the -25 below weather and I came inside and my mom had made soup! And I ate it! Oh man! (Ham.)

Then I started driving home and about four hours into my drive I bought some dill pickle chips and that didn’t satiate my hunger so I went to Wendy’s. Dang! (Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger.)

I decided to try again on January 2^nd.

I had a banana and a granola bar for breakfast. No meat. Win!

I had a mac and cheese and asparagus thingee for lunch. No meat. Win!

I went to Trader Joe’s after work and shopped like a vegetarian. I made my way around the entire store without buying any meat products whatsoever. And then I remembered that I probably should get some cucumbers for making salads and so I went to the vegetable section. I couldn't find any. So I put my hand on my forehead, exasperated. I was trying to think of a new plan. A Trader Joe’s employee came up to me and said,

“You look confused.”

“I can’t find the cucumbers.”

“We’re out. But maybe I can replace them.”

“Huh?”

“Congratulations! You’ve just won a free $40 turkey!”

I give up.

Sorry, Bud.

Inside Family Jokes You Probably Won't Find Very Funny

Pete: "Everything I see is a mathematical equation. I see numbers everywhere I look."

Kady: "Me too! I see numbers...on the microwave."

Pete: "I look at a clock...and all I see are numbers."

Why It's Funny:

I recently had my IQ measured.

I hate to break this to you. I really do.

It pains me to tell you. Just pains me.

It's really hard for me to say this. Really.

I'm a genius. It's official. And I've decided to join Mensa. Why not? Mainly it's so that I can get that membership card and accidentally give it to anyone who asks for my ID for the rest of my life. 

And trust me, my family is Nonplussed. Incredulous. Unimpressed. I don't regret telling them, but try hanging out with the other seven Hexum family members after you find out that you're extra smart. Play the wrong card in Whist. Run over a curb with your car. Mispronounce something. You get the idea. My new nickname is "Mensa", as in "Hey Mensa! You forgot to flush!" (just kidding, I never forget to flush.)

Don't worry. My dad will keep my head small. He likes to remind me that I "don't know cake from cowpie." When I told him the results of my IQ test, he laughed out loud and said, "lotta good it didja."

"It's like, well...I just know alotta stuff."

Oops.

2013: The Year in Review

It's that time again, Folks! You know. Where I brag about stuff I did all year. (Remember 2010, 2011, and 2012?)

January 1, 2013

Well this year started off pretty weird. I mean, Summer and I woke up in Agra, India on January 1st after visiting the Taj Majal for crying out loud, but then that very same day I ended up sending a little kid to jail.

The next day we went to Veranasi and took a lovely boat ride along the Ganges and saw the funeral pyres you've heard so much about...

...and then we walked to Nepal...

...then Summer flew to Paris and I flew to Japan where I saw some real live Geishas...

...and went snowboarding at Nagano...

...and then I came home again and spent some quality time with my parents...

...went to Puerto Rico where I faced a great big giant fear and got certified in SCUBA...

...and for the first time in over three years, I wasn't homeless anymore.

I moved into an apartment directly across from one of my best buds Laurissa. And then Minneapolis had a freak snow storm on April 19th, and she and I jumped on the city-wide bandwagon and made barefooted snow angels. Hers only had one arm, because martini.

...I learned how to curl...

...which in turn gave me the sweetest profile picture ever, I must say...

...after that a Pizza Man totaled my car and ruined my back for life.

...on the upside I became the proud if only temporary owner of this lovely old 1987 Dodge Dakota pickup truck which I lovingly called Ol' Blue:

...and then Ol' Blue bit the dust and I bit the bullet...

Fancy Lady

Some other events of 2013:

...my dad and I went Lady's Slipper hunting again...
...Summer and I roadtripped down to Kansas City...
...Hanna inadvertently made me a tampon holder...
...I faced a great big giant fear and crossed a great big giant thing off my to-do list and now I'm hiding it here in this list so as not to draw too much attention...
...the girls and I went on our Annual Girls' Weekend...
...went to my first Habesha wedding (oops I forgot to wear white):




So, what was your favorite post of 2013?

Mine? I can't pick just one! Here are my three favorite posts of 2013:

1. Chanel Ad? Or...
2. The most hilarious thing that pretty much ever happened to me.
3. Kim Jong Hal

Hal-isms, Vol. 48

"Vegans can't shoot animals? I thought they just couldn't eat 'em."

"You don't know the nice poles I got out in the garage."

"I'm working on my colorectal cancer. The doctor said eat carrots and so I had one today and I'll have another one next week."

"To hell with all of yous. Except Kady."

"Why do my ribs hurt so bad? Am I overweight?"

Inside Family Jokes You Probably Won't Find Very Funny

We're sitting around playing games from about 4pm. 3 hands in it was 6:30pm...

Hal, to no one to my mom: "...are we going to have a light lunch?"

Why it's funny:

• My dad is always wondering "where is dinner?"
• Nobody was starving.
• Apparently my mom was just supposed to get up and start making dinner in the middle of our game.
• "Light Lunch." At 6:30pm?
• Hal had just been snacking on Kit Kats and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
• Where is my DINNER, WOMAN???

Pete and I about died.

Hal-isms, Vol. 47

"I'm not saying you're right. I'm just saying everything you said is true."

"What's this information? We've been reading this for years on kady.blog."

"You ask me to tell you I love you, so I do. But it's not true."
*[yes it is.]

"Play your ace or burn in hell."

"Kady. I love you. I love you more every day."

Shash-age Links

This poor lady science reporter gets troll-mail all the time. Watch her read it. Sad.

This amazing dad made his kid a prosthetic hand for like ten bucks.

This is really cute. Remember ladies, people are also watching you scream at your kids in Target. So pretend a little harder maybe?

I am joining a choir right now. You never know when you'll be needed. for a surprise Nelson Mandela flash mob tribute. This made me cry.

Ever wonder where your old clothes go? Sometimes they go to Africa. Some people used the internet to find a T-shirt's former owner. Twenty years later.

I wonder if anybody will ever love me like this.

I am 100% certain that nobody will ever love me like this.

Have you gotten your Kady-isms fix today?

Well, I mean, I've never had athletes foot, so...I can corroborate these findings.





 This will always crack me up until the day that I die:

Peach-faced Parrot

A little seriousness for ya. The following is an excerpt from a letter that John Steinbeck wrote to his friend the politician Adlai Stevenson. It's a commentary about the state of the United States, only he wrote it in 1959. Me thinks he'd be rolling in his grave if he were alive today.

Adlai, do you remember two kinds of Christmases? There is one kind in a house where there is little and a present represents not only love but sacrifice. The one single package is opened with a kind of slow wonder, almost reverence. Once I gave my youngest boy, who loves all living things, a dwarf, peach-faced parrot for Christmas. He removed the paper and then retreated a little shyly and looked at the little bird for a long time. And finally he said in a whisper, "Now who would have ever thought that I would have a peach-faced parrot?" 

Then there is the other kind of Christmas with presents piled high, the gifts of guilty parents as bribes because they have nothing else to give. The wrappings are ripped off and the presents thrown down and at the end the child says—"Is that all?" Well, it seems to me that America now is like that second kind of Christmas. Having too many THINGS they spend their hours and money on the couch searching for a soul. A strange species we are. We can stand anything God and nature can throw at us save only plenty. If I wanted to destroy a nation, I would give it too much and would have it on its knees, miserable, greedy and sick. And then I think of our "Daily" in Somerset, who served your lunch. She made a teddy bear with her own hands for our grandchild. Made it out of an old bath towel dyed brown and it is beautiful. She said, "Sometimes when I have a bit of rabbit fur, they come out lovelier." Now there is a present. 

If I have kids, and I'm sure I totally will since I'm 36-years-old with no glimmer of hope for a boyfriend any time soon! they are going to be like tiny little slaves, cleaning and scrubbing and polishing and clipping my toenails and so when I give them a morsel of bread they'll say, "thank you Mommy dearest! thank you!"

You think I'm kidding.

Well. This Cracked Me Right UP

Genius Craigslist ad for a used car.






Nissan bought it from him. Haha!

What's the Opposite of a Pet Peeve?

What's the opposite of a Pet Peeve? You know, when you see something you really like? What's that called?

I don't know what it's called. But here's something that I like. I like it when I see women in hijab with their cell phones shoved in there so they can talk "hands free":

http://phillipswhittier365.blogspot.com/

I like it a lot.

Overheard at Work

"When you bowl as good as I do, you don't need bumpers."





 

Shash-age Links

HAHA Glamour Shots. (Thanks, Chris.)

Daredevil-death-defying Goats!!??!?  Unbelievable.

I love the Onion. Oh man I love the Onion so much. Here are two articles that cracked me up enough this week to actually share them on my Facebook wall.

• Infertile Aunt Doing it up Big at Kid's Table
• Why Are All the Good Guys Taken, Gay, Dead, or Available?

Hilarious. (And I concur.)

I wonder if anybody will ever love me like this.

Haha this guy totally fake-interpreted Nelson Mandela's funeral. I am very sorry for any deaf people who tried to watch the service and couldn't understand, but it's SO funny how when you watch him, he's totally using the same five signs the entire time. Even I can see that. It's so hilarious to me. And his straight face! And now he's saying he's schizophrenic and had an episode on stage? And not it's being reported that he was involved in a mob killing of a man who stole a television? It's too much.

I love reading articles from people who have done long term travel. Ditto to this guy's list of things he learned while traveling.

I'm really proud of  my CRAZY nephew Miles. He's going to jump in a frozen lake on January 25th to support his brother Murphy and the Special Olympics! Click here to donate.

HOW TO FIGHT A BABY:

THE STORY OF THE FANTASTIC RACCOON

Hanna found this story in her room when she was cleaning the other day. She wrote it when she was little. I've done my best to type out her exact story, including all the [sic] moments.

The title of the story is "THE STORY OF THE FANTASTIC RACCOON"

Enjoy!

Once upon a time there wass a chair named Ralph. He loved it when people sat on him and farted. The person who farted on him the most was his owner Franchesco! Franchesco was rich with gold. He loved to play violin but he stunk at it. He had a beard that riched the floor. His favorite food to eat was boiled saurkraut and ketchup. He had a pet parrot name ALphredo. Alphredo would sit on the back of Ralph the Chair and poop. Ralph liked farta, not poop, so he decided to kill Alphredo. All he needed was a fabulous plan. T O days later he still didn't kn0w his plan. 1 day latter he found his plan. 

His owner Franchesco took a walk every Friday afternoon. While he was gone Ralph would give Alphredo some crackers filled with sleeping pills. After he fell asleep Ralph would put him in the doll bath with a bottle of shampoo on his head. It would look like the bottle hit him in the head and knocjed him out, causing him to slip under the water and drown. It was a genius plan! It was Thursday today! He only had that night to prepare. He waited till everyone else was asleep. Then he snuck into the kitchen and stole Alphredo;s crackers. He got the sleeping pills out of the medicine closet. He carefully crushed the pill and covered the crackers with them. He put everything back where it was before. He went back to his room and fell asleep.

The next day Ralph was so nervous he coulen;t talk right. When Franchesco sat on him to fart Ralph was sh king so hard the fart sounded like brer-er-er-er-er. Franchesco was so embarressed by the sound of his fart that he didn't sit on Ralph again to fart the whole rest of the day. 

Once Franchesco left for his walk he beagan his plan. Alphredo flew over and landed on Ralph's head. He poop a horribly large green bird turd right between poor Ralph's eyes. Ralph was so mad. Polly want a cracker" he cackled. He walked to the kitchen with Alphredo on his back, singing a horrible song the whole way. Ralph hatee it when Alphredo sang. He was a terrible singer. He took the crackers down from the shelf. He took the sleeping pill cracker out of the box and gave it to Alphrdo Alphrdotook it and ate it with one bite. "Ha ha ha", said Ralph. Soon enh enough the parot fell asleep. Now for the rest of the plan, Ralph said. He took the parot to the bathroom and set him on the counter while he filled the bath. When it was full he took the parot and put him in the bath. "Now for the bottle", he said. He went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle. He didn;t have any fingers so he dropped it right away. "oops", he said. He went to pick it up again but it slipped out of his legs and fell on the floor. When it hit the floor the cap broke and fell off. Shampoo oozed all o ver the outside of the bottle. Ralph decided to cleab it off later. He tried to pick up the bottle again but it was so slippery that it slipped out of his legs again and flew through the air, leaving a trail of soap wherever it flew. The bottle crashed into the mirror, smashing it and sending little shards of glass all over the bathroom. Now Ralph was mad. He chased after the bottle screaming and swearing, smashing up the whole house. He speant so much time chasing the bottle and was being so loud thzt Alphredo woke up. "Hmmmmm", he thought, I must have fallen asleep, but I don't remember trying to take a bath." He went off to find Ralph. He was shocked the whole house was shashed up. And there was Ralph, laying on the broken couch staring at a shampoo bottle. He was crying! When Ralph saw Alphredo he screamed and picked up a knife off the table. Alphredo backed up against the door just then the door opened and Franchesco walked in, just as Ralph threw the knife with all jis might at Alphredo. Alphredo saw the knife and ducked, but Franchesco didn't see it. The knife flew through the air, and then it stopped. It stopped lodged in the heart of Franchesco. He died instantly, falling to the ground beforeRalph evennknew he had even come home. There was an instant of silence, then there was a blood curdling scream from Ralph. He ran across the room and flung himself at Franchesco, skreming "Oh i'v killd himm" Alphredo stared at him. Alphredo was a very good parot He thought that everybody was a good person. He was moved by Ralph's crying. "Oh you poor thing", he sobbed "what happened?" Ralph was shocked out of his crying fit. "I , uh, well, there was, ya see, um. Sudde




And that's where it ends.

Hanna, performing child slave labor by cleaning the tub because her old Auntie's back hurts.

Book Review

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.
by Jonathan Safran Foer

2am

That pretty much sums it up.

More Elevators

What? You haven't had enough of the tales of me acting a fool in the elevator?

Well:

A few weeks ago, I was riding back up to my office after lunch when a man got in after me. He was holding a stack of seven pizzas. There was already another man in the elevator with HIS lunch, a styrofoam container in a plastic bag, and a bunch of other people without any food, like me. I said to the group:

"Oh Man if this elevator gets stuck it's gonna get crazy in here." And then I dug in my purse to find my keys and put them in my hand, you know like how they tell you to do when you're walking alone at night so you can fend off rapists and muggers:

Re-enactment

And then I lowered myself into this offensive "every-man-for-himself-elevator's-stuck-I'll-kill-you-for-that-pizza" stance right here:

It's not always a Victoria's Secret fashion show at my place, you know.

Entertainer of the Year

Elevator PUNCH!

As some of you know, I have a hard time being "normal" when I ride in elevators.

Today, a co-worker and I were playing the "mock-race-to-the-elevator-so-you-can-quick-shut-the-door-on-the-other-person-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha" game but he made it first and so when I got to the doors and they opened he was right there and I was right behind him and I bumped into him and we fell into the elevator.

Well. There were already two people in there. (Attractive business-y type men, of course).

I hadn't put my coat on yet. I started to put it on and when I put my arm through the sleeve I pretended to surprise "arm-through-coat-sleeve-PUNCH!" in the face the attractive business-y man standing nearest to me.

He mustered up a slight smile and then I yelled "HILARIOUS!"

A real Barrel O'Laughs, Me

Sorry, For Real

The five of you may have noticed that I'm not posting as often as I used to.

There's a very good reason for that. I ran out of money and got a job. A real one. And all my brain seems to be capable of handling in the evening hours is back-to-back episodes of television. So, you know, sorry about that. It's really hard to come up with something interesting to say day after day when the only interesting thing that happened that day was that I forgot my lunch and had to go down to the cafeteria and spend $8.00 on a very boring salad and then I ate it at my desk.

Just remember, I have posted 1,656 times on this very website and you can click around and read old archived posts. There's a menu of topics on the right hand side of the page:

Might I suggest:

Some of my very favorite stories are housed under life up North.

Hal - Read about my ridiculously funny dad, including the hysterical run-in with prostate cancer a few years back. Or read all the crazy stuff he says at Hal-isms.

Hilarious - Just my opinion...

Embarrassed - (This happens a lot).

Kady Stupid - Well, I mean. I am.

And of course there is fart, poop, pee, and tampons but -- you know. Proceed at your own risk.

OR: You could go all the way back to the very beginning and read every single one!

Life will get interesting again soon, I hope.