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My body asplode
I slept. For a ridiculous amount of time. Oh my god.
Um, also? Did I just see this wrong on Nightly Business News or is Unleaded Gas going for $1.98 a gallon in wholesale? Not cool, if that's true! Gas here is at least $3.28 and that kind of profit from the oil companies should be CREATING A STIRR. Am I the only one alive here?
ETA: Omg, Stephen Colbert. I...love this man beyond anything in the world. Check him out.
So, yeah, I spent Sunday and Monday at Debbie's house (woo!) and, of course, the two of us can not resemble sane, especially when we're together, so the first night I was there, we decided to not sleep. We put on Pocahontas three times in succession and did not watch any of it all three times because we were so busy talking.
Clearly, we are made of awesomeand Jared needs to feed us cookies. With his mouth.
We talked about pretty much everything that can be talked about and then some things that probably should never be talked about under penalty of Armageddon, and then we made soap. Lots and lots of soap. Foojoy soap, brown sugar soap, lemon soap, fish-food soap (woops), chocolate soap, sandlewood soap, I really can't remember all the soap we made, dear GOD, it was fantastic.
Doing the tango around Debbie's kitchen to the sounds of her butter-smudged Disney mix should be something that happens every week. At least.
So then we decided it would be awesome to stay up late again, even though we were running on very little sleep and a few cookies (if one can call those sad chocolate-chipped carcasses cookies--we apparently fail at making insta-cookies), and we played Barbies. Yes, that's right: Barbies.
The family stories that we created really deserve a post of their own so that they can live on indefinitely. Guys? We had one couple, Biff and Taylor, who spent their entire lives in a Jacuzzi. Every once in a while, Debbie and I would turn to them and have them say things like, "Hey, Biff? My shoes are getting wet," and, "Why don't you take them off, Taylor?" and, "Oh, wow, you're so smart, Biff."
We need to be locked up.
And then, the next day, Amtrak killed me, the end. Ha ha. But, no, really, it did. How do all the crazies find me every time I use any mode of public transportation? I swear there is a magnet. On my head.
First there was an old couple from Port Jefferson sitting in front of me, talking in very loud voices about all the Ferries we passed and how "during the war..." I think at one point, the words, "When I was young, we had to walk 15 miles in the snow," were actually uttered. After they (mercifully) left, an old woman and her two grandchildren sat in front of me. She had an oxygen tank. Why the hell are these people still traveling?
She apparently couldn't take a plane down to Florida because she couldn't spend three hours without her oxygen. However, she can manage to take a train from Boston to New York, switch trains in New York, take another train from New York to Florida, which is 15 hours worth of train-time, and then worry about getting from the station to her house in the car--another half an hour to an hour. What the hell, Grannie?!
And to make things even better, there was a couple from New Jersey with their small boy-child. I really, really hate children when they are in an enclosed space with me. Especially when I have no earphones with which to drown out their bratty whining. As it was, I just sort of hunkered down under my blanket and thought murderous thoughts involving sporks and how fast I could get my seat to recline for maximum surprise.
I got through Penn Station without any trouble, because, hello, I totally had a laptop in my duffle wrapped in a blanket so I could hit people with my bag and not have to worry about damage [to my laptop]. I kept my stylish-yet-affordable sunglasses on the entire trip home so as not to show people how much pain I was in every time the two girls in front of me yelled at their moms about the quiet game. The tears, they welled.
But, so, long story short, I had to walk a mile and a half with my duffle full of crap and computer stuffs back to my house. By the time I got home, I had a spectacular ring of bruises around my left shoulder and a knot the size of a watermelon in my right.I hurt. Make Jensen kiss it better.
Then, I ate a microwaveable thingy and watched a special on underwater archaeology and then I settled myself into my glorious, amazing, comfortable, sun-soaked bed and dreamed pretty dreams of Jensen and Jared from around 3:30 to 10:30. Then I ate some more crap and fell back asleep until 11 this morning. Sleep is my friend, especially when I have such incredible dreams. Yum.
Clearly, we are made of awesome
We talked about pretty much everything that can be talked about and then some things that probably should never be talked about under penalty of Armageddon, and then we made soap. Lots and lots of soap. Foojoy soap, brown sugar soap, lemon soap, fish-food soap (woops), chocolate soap, sandlewood soap, I really can't remember all the soap we made, dear GOD, it was fantastic.
Doing the tango around Debbie's kitchen to the sounds of her butter-smudged Disney mix should be something that happens every week. At least.
So then we decided it would be awesome to stay up late again, even though we were running on very little sleep and a few cookies (if one can call those sad chocolate-chipped carcasses cookies--we apparently fail at making insta-cookies), and we played Barbies. Yes, that's right: Barbies.
The family stories that we created really deserve a post of their own so that they can live on indefinitely. Guys? We had one couple, Biff and Taylor, who spent their entire lives in a Jacuzzi. Every once in a while, Debbie and I would turn to them and have them say things like, "Hey, Biff? My shoes are getting wet," and, "Why don't you take them off, Taylor?" and, "Oh, wow, you're so smart, Biff."
We need to be locked up.
And then, the next day, Amtrak killed me, the end. Ha ha. But, no, really, it did. How do all the crazies find me every time I use any mode of public transportation? I swear there is a magnet. On my head.
First there was an old couple from Port Jefferson sitting in front of me, talking in very loud voices about all the Ferries we passed and how "during the war..." I think at one point, the words, "When I was young, we had to walk 15 miles in the snow," were actually uttered. After they (mercifully) left, an old woman and her two grandchildren sat in front of me. She had an oxygen tank. Why the hell are these people still traveling?
She apparently couldn't take a plane down to Florida because she couldn't spend three hours without her oxygen. However, she can manage to take a train from Boston to New York, switch trains in New York, take another train from New York to Florida, which is 15 hours worth of train-time, and then worry about getting from the station to her house in the car--another half an hour to an hour. What the hell, Grannie?!
And to make things even better, there was a couple from New Jersey with their small boy-child. I really, really hate children when they are in an enclosed space with me. Especially when I have no earphones with which to drown out their bratty whining. As it was, I just sort of hunkered down under my blanket and thought murderous thoughts involving sporks and how fast I could get my seat to recline for maximum surprise.
I got through Penn Station without any trouble, because, hello, I totally had a laptop in my duffle wrapped in a blanket so I could hit people with my bag and not have to worry about damage [to my laptop]. I kept my stylish-yet-affordable sunglasses on the entire trip home so as not to show people how much pain I was in every time the two girls in front of me yelled at their moms about the quiet game. The tears, they welled.
But, so, long story short, I had to walk a mile and a half with my duffle full of crap and computer stuffs back to my house. By the time I got home, I had a spectacular ring of bruises around my left shoulder and a knot the size of a watermelon in my right.
Then, I ate a microwaveable thingy and watched a special on underwater archaeology and then I settled myself into my glorious, amazing, comfortable, sun-soaked bed and dreamed pretty dreams of Jensen and Jared from around 3:30 to 10:30. Then I ate some more crap and fell back asleep until 11 this morning. Sleep is my friend, especially when I have such incredible dreams. Yum.
Um, also? Did I just see this wrong on Nightly Business News or is Unleaded Gas going for $1.98 a gallon in wholesale? Not cool, if that's true! Gas here is at least $3.28 and that kind of profit from the oil companies should be CREATING A STIRR. Am I the only one alive here?
ETA: Omg, Stephen Colbert. I...love this man beyond anything in the world. Check him out.