oh no

a girl in my class looks just like chuckie from Rugrats. I have had multiple classes with this girl and have always wondered why she looked so weird to me. it's because her face looks like a cartoon. and not just any cartoon, a creepy cartoon. she doesn't have red hair, but it doesn't detract from the eerie resemblance. i'm even a little mad that I'v had to remember this cartoon. i'm sure i liked it when i was little but i can't understand why. weirdly drawn little babies running around and talking is super weird voices. does anyone else remember that they all had raspy voices like Marge Simpson? yuck.

hey mom look, an elevator!

Apparently ears are what make us human. I have learned this from sci-fi and fantasy movies. Whenever a distinction between humans and non-humans must be made, the ears are the first thing to go. The top of the ear goes from round to pointed and BAM, you know that there must be something magical/alien/mutated/fantastic/evil about this dude. I came to this realization last night while watching The Green Lantern and I saw this guy.



Never mind that his skin is purple and his eyebrows are doing something crazy, it's really the ears that give him away as an alien. Getting up close and personal with the purple people eater here made me think about all other pointy eared creatures I've seen in other movies I got confused about how to tell them apart. Luckily, I came across this handy guide online which has helped to clear some things up.

Sunday

I think I'm afraid of living a life that's too small. A life where no one knows who you are or cares what you're doing. I live in fear of being disconnected from other people. I just want a life that's full, but not so big that other people look at me too much, and not so small that no one remembers my name. The phrase "quiet desperation" haunts me.

The Adventures of Snort

Snort is the name of my right foot. Snort has always been an outgoing sort of foot who likes to explore. He likes to run and jump, dance and skip, play and wiggle. Snort and his faithful pal Lefty have been all over and gotten into all kinds of mischief together. As the years passed by, Snort and Lefty grew and became strong and skilled at various activities such as wiggling their toes. While Lefty had always been slightly bigger, Snort was faster and the first to jump into anything new or exciting. After many years of toe tapping and work and fun, a gradual change began to take place within Snort. His big toe began to move ever so slightly towards the other toes. Big Toe wanted to join the party that the other toes were having, and who can blame him really? Little did Big Toe know, however, the consequences of his party animal ways. A small and pointy bump began to grow below Big Toe on the side of Snort. Now Ol' Pointy was an irritable, hot headed sort of bump who hated hard work. Whenever a long road was walked or a fancy shoe was worn, Ol' Pointy would complain and whine and ruined the fun for everyone. 

To be continued ...

Ever ever?

How much is enough? Enough faith? Enough time? Enough money? Enough pudding? I don't think that any of us really know. This concept of having a thing in such quantities that you don't want or need any more of it seems foreign and totally unrealistic. How do you get to the point where you are completely satisfied? And should we ever get to that point? If you are satisfied do you cease to exist because you cease to strive or progress? All anyone can say is that "Enough is enough" and I guess the only ones who understand what that means are the ones who have a limitless supply of pudding. 

Call me Morticia

I realize that I'm developing an unhealthy relationship with food. I can't seem to think of anything I'm willing to ingest. Part of this problem is likely the result of sustaining myself off of the contents of vending machines for the last 3 weeks, but I don't think that means I deserve to be punished in this way. Where has the joy of eating gone? I go to the grocery store and buy things but then inevitably the next day I find myself sadly lacking in anything edible. Even treats have completely lost their appeal. I'm the kind of person who usually loves food which makes my current predicament all the more disturbing. I love to try new food, I like eating food, I love cooking food but all of these activities no longer hold any appeal or satisfaction. All I want is for the talented and charming Barefoot Contessa, also known as Ina Garten, to come live in my house and make me delicious meals full of ridiculously expensive and exotic ingredients that will dazzle my taste buds. Ina's publicist was kind enough to inform me that she's not likely to be moving in any time soon.

Bulova

it's 1:36 PM and i just realized that i've had my watch on upside down all day. this just confirms that my watch is nothing more than an accessory. there was a time when i wore a watch everyday for the purpose of keeping track of the time. apparently those times have long gone and been replaced with a need to accessorize rather than be on time. the little hands on my watch are too ambiguous. they say 'right now it is sometime between 1:50 and 1:55' instead of offering me the concrete assurance that at this very moment it is exactly 1:53. i find that i mistrust my little watch, whereas i place complete confidence in my computer or phone to tell me the absolutely correct time according to the rotation of the planet, position of the satellites, and wind conditions.
in the same moment i realized my total lack of watch reading skills i also noticed that the lotion i use has glitter in it. this is not the first day, or week that i have used this lotion. all this time i've been covering my body in tiny bits of something shiny and had no idea. i feel like i'm 13 again. maybe i'll go get some lipsmackers chapstick and a scrunchy and just go with.