Picture Time! Break it down!

"He's faster than Severus Snape running from shampoo!"

I didn't get to attend any awesome Potter parties last night, so I did the next best thing. I accompanied my boss Mary, her daughter and daughter's friend to the late showing of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Yes, I've seen it already, but it was a night of magical Potter goodness!


There was one guy two rows ahead of us with a Still-Living-In-Mom's-Basement-And-Never-Kissed-A-Girl-type beard. He laughed a lot at weird parts, with a braying hee-haw type of laughter that sent the rest of the audience into muffled giggles and snorts.


After the movie, we continued our Potter-mania by driving to Wal-Mart to wait mere moments for when the final book, Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows, became available. (Look, I know Wal-Mart is evil. If there was a regular bookstore closer than an hour away, I would have gone there instead.) The line began at Layaway and extended past Electronics, One-Hour Photo, Fabrics and Crafts. My job was to make everyone laugh while we waited. Though I was specifically talking to Mary, a girl right in front of me kept turning around and laughing. It was late; I don't recall all of my jokester ways. Though I do recall loudly proclaiming, "All right, now everyone get ready to kick anyone who walks by and reveals the ending!" They all laugh. Then, pretending an ending-spoiler had fallen to the ground, I go, "Oops, you tripped." Girl in front of me was cracking up. Really. It was funny. Trust me.


Anyway, we got to the head of the line rather quickly since they were prepared for the crowd. I was handed a book and 3 colored bracelets: green for Slytherin, blue for Ravenclaw, and yellow for Hufflepuff. They'd run out of the Gryffindor. :( There was also juice and a Harry Potter cake, but since it was after midnight and I needed to get up early for work, I passed on those.


The worst part, then, was waiting in line to pay. While they had moved us along so efficiently back in layaway, they only had 2 checkout lanes open. And since I'd stopped to talk to someone I knew, I was separated from Mary and consequently had to wait in line behind two particular library patrons who are very annoying. It took probably 5 minutes total to wait in line to get a book, and another 30 or so just to pay for it. I did get to talk to one cute guy, though. He walked up to me and goes, "They ran out of copies??" Me: Huh? He points at my book. "Is it true that they ran out of copies?" Me: I have no idea. (I'm at the top of my conversational game when talking to cute guys, as you can clearly see.) "Well, where did you get the book?" Me: Back in Layaway. Then he walked away. Top of my game, people. Top of my game. Anyway, there were like 50 people in line, and he came up to me in a panic. Not the annoying patrons in front of me. Not the loud woman behind me. Not the geek playing golf on his cell phone. ME. Take that, Wal-Mart customers!







I was extremely tired by the time I got home, HP in my hot little hands. Cripes, I must still be delirious from lack of sleep to post this fromping ugly picture. I look drunk.





The colors of Hogwarts, minus Gryffindor. I always imagined I'd be a Gryffindor myself, if I were a magic-learning student, but Mary reminded me that Hufflepuff's animal is the badger, and I do live in the Badger State.

Now, I am not the type of girl who likes to ruin surprises, so you won't find any spoilers here. But since I work in a public library, where we just happened to receive our copies in advance in order to process, I did get a head start on reading the book. In fact, I only have about 30 pages left. And this book is an emotional rollercoaster, for sure. I was right and wrong about some of my guesses/theories. But make sure to have tissues at the ready for this reading. Gather all your snacks and drinks, banish everyone else from your house, and treat yourself to one final adventure with Harry Potter.

April vs. The Devil, Round Two

Okay, so I promised an update about my confrontation with The Devil. Don't get too excited; there were no tears or cursing. But I did receive a pathetic apology. Here's how it went.

On July 5th while at work, I noticed that The Devil had pulled up to the library. I made the decision to meet her outside and ask to speak with her privately. Before I could say anything else, she began telling me how sorry she was for the things she had said the week before. I thought maybe someone had given her a heads-up about my reaction, so I simply crossed my arms and said, "Well what makes you decide to apologize now?" She claimed that she couldn't stop thinking about it and regretting it. I asked, "How could you even say the things you said to me? How could you say them to anyone?"

She replied, "Well, I thought you were pregnant."

Nice, right? I told her that a simple mistake like that was forgiveable, but the fact that she touched my stomach was not. Nor was it okay to make comments that I'd better watch myself, etc. She agreed, saying that after she realized that I wasn't pregnant, she tried to change the subject but just kept making the situation worse.


Anyway, then she kept on going about how she wishes I were pregnant, because I should be able to experience something so beautiful. Blah, blah, blah. I kept my eye-rolling to a minimum, but I did snort a few times. I told her that it had been unacceptable to say those things to me. She just kept going on and on about motherhood, somehow working in some crap about how I was so beautiful and could be a model. I just wanted to say, "Hey, lady, don't blow smoke up my ass. Just say you're sorry for being an idiot, and we can move on."

After all was said and done, we went into the library, where she returned a movie.





Uh-huh. The Devil tapped her fingernail on the cover of the dvd and said, "Girrrl, you need to watch this movie."

I sighed.

She leaned back and nodded her head. "It's got a you-and-me moment."

I almost said, "Oh, a moment where some skinny bitch makes a fat girl feel like a piece of shit?" Instead I made a noncommital noise as I checked in the movie.

The Turtle Trot!

I entered another race, this time just a lovely 2-mile walk. My boss Carol walked with me on this mostly flat route. The sky was overcast with spots of sunshine, and there was a wonderful breeze to cool us down. This was what the route looked like about 30-45 seconds after the race started.



A picturesque walk through the countryside.



Quite beautiful, really, when the clouds would finally part for a moment or two.

That row of trees in the background framed a cemetery.

Horsies!

This is what the front of my participant T-shirt looks like. Carol called them gangster turtles. Did I even mention the race was called the Turtle Trot?

I plan to annoy everyone by starting a T-shirt trophy collection. Know of any animal-themed races? ;)

I'll treat you right!

Life has been a little crazy and hectic around here lately, so I haven't been able to post. I really don't have the time right now, but I plan on posting soon. Please stay tuned for a full report on Kristen's visit, my confrontation with The Devil, a new job opportunity, and a late night visit from my bitch-tastic sister-in-law.

For now, please enjoy this recipe for the best summer treat you could possibly find. I didn't think to take a picture until I got to the last piece. But, oh, so delicious!

Chocolate-Berry Cream Pies

* 1/2 gallon chocolate ice cream, softened

* 1 can (11-1/2 ounces) frozen cranberry-raspberry juice concentrate, thawed

* 1 carton (16 ounces) frozen whipped topping, thawed, divided

* 3 chocolate crumb crusts (9 inches)

* 1 can (21 ounces) raspberry pie filling

In a large mixing bowl, combine ice cream and juice concentrate. Fold in 4 cups whipped topping. Spoon into crusts. Cover and freeze for 4 hours or until firm.

Remove pies from the freezer 15 minutes before serving. Garnish with pie filling and remaining whipped topping.

Yield: 3 pies (8 servings each).

Ladies, back me up on this one. You've all heard horror stories involving some idiot not only mistaking an overweight woman as being pregnant, but also remarking on it to her. You gasp and think, "Oh, God. That would be the worst."

Trust me, that's not the worst. I know because yesterday the worst happened to me.

At work yesterday, this woman who has always been nice to me apparently decided to turn me into a sobbing wreck. She reaches over, cups my stomach, and asks, "What is this??"

I stared at her, completely shocked. I thought to myself, "Is she asking if I'm pregnant?"

If only. It would have been a hundred times better to think that this woman, let's call her The Devil, had merely misinterpreted my extra weight.

I finally managed to squeak out an answer: "Me."

Forgive me for not thinking of something more clever to say. I guess it was the mortification of a pregnancy implication in front of everyone at the library that numbed my brain.

She cocks an eyebrow and drawls, "Girrrrl, you better start watching yourself."

I had no words. None. Not a single verb or noun sprang to my mind.

I can feel the heat rising to my face, air cutting off in my throat. The Devil begins talking about how she is so thin and could probably use some of my fat.

The Devil cocks her head and says, "You have to tell me what kind of food you eat. Do you eat lots of candy?"

Candy? Did she just ask me if I eat lots of candy?

The Devil continues. "Because I'm so thin, maybe I should do what you do. I eat all the time, but I only eat healthy things. You must eat a lot of candy and ice cream and lots of doughnuts."

I don't look to be sure, but I feel people turning to look up at the counter where I'm staring resolutely down as The Devil makes me feel like a disgusting, slovenly pig. I begin blinking heavily because I refuse to cry in front of this woman. And yet I can say nothing back to her.

Before I can escape, she adds one final comment. "You better be careful, or Carol and Marlene are just going to feed you until you pop."

I've never been so humiliated in my life. And worse than anything, I felt so fucking stupid. I went straight home to my mommy and sobbed.

I can't even remember everything that woman said to me, but I know there was more. I know I should have stood up for myself, but I think I was afraid of drawing even more attention to the situation. And I couldn't swear at her because I was at work. I almost followed her out of the library to ask in what world would it be considered appropriate or acceptable to say the things she'd just said to me. I wanted to say a lot of things, but I'm sure I either would have started crying or started swearing at her.

What's truly awful is that, previous to this, I had been so proud of myself for continuing with my Curves workouts and signing up for a 4-mile race as a part of this weekend's town festivities. And all it took was one woman degrading me in front of co-workers (who claim they didn't hear any of this) and library patrons to make me feel like a pathetic loser.

Well, I cried last night. And today, I'm done with feeling bad about myself. Anybody who can't accept me because of my weight is just a douchebag, anyhow. The thing is, I started working out again to please myself, to be happy with myself. It wasn't to prove a point to anyone else or to get someone to like me. I have nothing to prove to others. I have awesome friends and a supportive family, and that's good enough for me.

Anyway, as I wrote above, I entered a 4-mile race this morning. It's our annual Liberty Fest days in town, and apparently every year there's this little race called The Fishy Four. The "Four" obviously comes from the number of miles participants run or walk. The "Fishy" part comes, I assume, from the fact that we're a lake town and get most of our tourists because of the lakes. Oh, and because it's part of our town logo. See pictures below.

So, my boss Carol and I registered at about 7:45 this morning, got our free T-shirts for getting there early, then joined a crowd of 345 at the starting line. Carol and I walked the race, which began at the beach, and extended down to the airport and around the island and back. Whew. I think for newbies we did pretty well. At least, we didn't come in last place. Close, but not last. :) It was sunny out with a nice breeze that kept us pretty cool through all the little hills. My finishing time was 1:15:18. I don't know what place I was in because, by that time, they'd just stopped giving them. hahaha Sad but true. After we crossed the finish line, we headed back up to the main crowd to claim our door prizes. Carol won a 12-pack of Caffeine Free Diet Pepsi, which she loathes. I won a package of golf balls, with which I have not decided what to do.

My participant T-shirt. I got an XL, thinking it would be a goal for me to be able to fit into it. Then I got it home and realized it was a Men's XL. I don't think I'll have any trouble getting that bad boy on.

Close up. I told Carol that the shirt reminded me of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

My balls.

Confession Time!

Most of my readers are music snobs. Admit it. You've already bought the new White Stripes album. You've gone to see Feist in concert. You're on a first-name basis with Gwen Stefani. You liked Regina Spektor before she hit the big time. It's part of why I love you. No, I'm not getting mushy, I'm just softening you up for what's to come.

And because of you dear music snobs, my taste in music has matured into something to be reckoned with. (Er...just go with it.) Anyone who received my first mix cd that I sent to the Librarian's Revenge members must have noted the difference between it and my last mix, Heart of a Nerd. I mean, even Kristen (who I think promptly threw my first mix in the trash) called me and said, "You bitch, this mix is really good!"

Now, even though my music library isn't quite the vast empire of awesomeness like yours, *cough*Rachel*cough*, I'd like to point out that we all have our weaknesses for musicians or bands that don't quite hold up to the average music snob's standards. A dear friend who shall remain nameless (ah, you can figure it out), likes to get her groove on to Jennifer Lopez. Some of you fancy Britney Spears. Perhaps you only listen to The Smiths. I'm just saying, we all have our weaknesses. Are you nodding along? Thinking to yourself, "Why, yes, I admit that I did buy Paula Abdul's greatest hits for $1 at that garage sale." Or maybe, "Seriously, you guys totally need to check out Mandy Moore's new cd!" Okay, keep that in mind.

So, here's my confession. I'm currently crushing on American Idol Season 5 third-place finisher Elliott Yamin.

I can't help it! With his curly hair and scruffy beard, crooning to me in his awkward, white-boy fashion. It's stinking adorable! And if you haven't heard him lately because, you know, you're too cool to listen to pop radio, here's your chance. Open your heart and let Elliott in.

Watch the video of Elliott's single, Wait For You.

"I am so not competitive. In fact, I am the least non-competitive. So I win."

MIS-ER-A-BLE

Yes, I'm feeling miserable. I have a summer cold. Or it's sinuses. Whatever. The point is, I feel like crap. It's been a week of this vile wretchedness.

I'm trying to eat my lunch, which seems to be impossible because as soon as I take a bite or lift the fork, someone comes to ask me something.

On Saturday, Amanda, Jersey, and I drove around to some garage sales to see what fantastic junk we could buy. Jerz got some bargain toys, clothes and a few videos. I purchased some Halloween decorations (unused) for the apartment I hope to someday have. Since it was also Aquafest in Rice Lake, we hoped to take Jersey on some kiddie rides for the first time. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. No, it didn't rain. No, we didn't run out of money. No, Jersey didn't fall asleep.

The reason Jersey didn't get to experience her first fair was because my mother-effing car died in the middle of the mall parking lot. And of course, I didn't own a cell phone. Amanda has one, but she could only text. Sending out S.O.S. texts at a rate that would surely have made Kimberly Yeo proud, Amanda finally got a response that good old Gramps was on the way. In the meantime, Jersey started having a temper tantrum. Something about being a green werewolf. So I said, "Okay, you're a green werewolf!" And she screamed, "No! I not a green werewolf. I'm a purple werewolf!" Ai yi yi. Since it was too hot to sit in the car, I sent Amanda and the green/purple werewolf into the mall to cool off. I got sunburned waiting for the g'rents.

Of course, Grandpa got it running in no time, without using special tricks such as jumping the battery. No, no. All he had to do was turn the key and it started. I mean, why wouldn't that work for someone other than me, right? Ugh. So he followed me home. My uncle came over yesterday doing some voodoo tests and declaring it fine. So...who knows. Anyway, to avoid being stuck on the side of the road with no means of communication, I finally got another cell phone. It's just one of those pay-as-you-go phones that I'll mainly use for emergencies, but I feel slightly cooler. Cool, yet blowing my nose every 3 seconds. Ah, the fabulous life I lead.

Anyway, here are a few more pics. Enjoy.

Yes, the side of her pirate ship-shaped pool does read "The Scurvy Dog."

My Preciouses

This is my cousin Andrew's son Zayne. Zayne's grandma brought him over to visit today. Yay for digital cameras!




Boo for April's shaky hands. He almost looks like he's gonna flip me off. Andrew's son, indeed.




Me and Jersey. Yes, that is a picture of ice cream on her shirt. And despite the look on her face, she wasn't trying to get away from me.





Yesterday was my grandpa's birthday (81) and my grandparent's 58th wedding anniversary. We had a little picnic outside. Jersey was fascinated with all the pinecones and counted them endlessly.




I don't know what she's doing, but it makes me laugh.



Amanda holding Aaliyah last week at my cousin's graduation party.

Aaliyah tried many times to take Auntie April's camera away.

Aaliyah's favorite game is to toss keys on the floor, have Auntie April pick them up and hand them back, then throw them on the floor again. Oh, the hours of fun we had.

"Someday a boy will fall in love with all my flaws, and he sure will be the lucky one."

Let me tell you why crime doesn't pay, boys and girls. It's a little thing called karma. See, it's just like Earl says, if you do bad things, bad things happen to you. It's a real kick in the ass.

It all started on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I went shopping with my mom to pick out a new swimming pool for Jersey. We picked out several other things that my mom needed to buy as well, including a vacuum cleaner. I shoved the vacuum in the cart, and we piled everything else around it. After paying for it all, I asked the check-out girl if she needed to run the vacuum cleaner box over the desensitizing pad so that it wouldn't set off the doors, which I knew it would. She kinda sneered and said no, the alarm wouldn't go off. But of course, it did. I shoved the cart back over to her and rolled my eyes. (I know you think this is bitchy, but she thought she was so cool teaching the new guy how to ring up items and just dismissed me. So it's her fault.) Anyway, after we finally got back out to the car and started unloading it into the trunk, I noticed an item that wasn't in a shopping bag. I asked mom if we'd paid for it.
Mom: We did now, put it in the bag.
Me: But did--
Mom: Put it in the bag.
Me: But we--
Mom: PUT IT IN THE BAG!!

Hot with shame, I shoved it in the bag and made a beeline for my seat. I was shaking, certain I was going to be arrested at any moment. I demanded that my mom buy me a strawberry shake in which to drown my sorrows. I was sick all night, both from guilt and strawberry shake cramps.

Ah, Monday morning. Still exhausted from a night of tossing and turning, I stumbled to work. The usual crazies annoyed the hell out of me. Then later that afternoon I had a dentist appointment to take care of a cavity. After numbing my gums and tooth, the dentist began drilling. I flinched violently as I could still feel it! "Oops," he said. "Looks like we'll need to numb it some more." Ya think?? So he stabs me about 7 more times with the needle, pressing down painfully on my gums with his thumb to "massage" the novacaine in deeper. He leaves to do whatever dentists do when they leave a room, waiting for me to go completely numb.

Then, just as my tongue feels like a dead slug in my mouth, the dental hygienist, who has been silent up until this point, starts asking me questions. I try to answer without biting my tongue. Then I find out that her oldest brother was in my grade in high school. And I remember that I kicked him savagely in the knee in 9th grade for continually touching me. So now my face is numb, the dentist is drilling my tooth, and I'm trying desperately not to giggle as I replay in my mind an enraged adolescent April kicking a boy in the kneecap.

Then the hygienist is finished with her shift, so the dentist's wife takes over. Everything goes along smoothly. I start sitting up in the chair to get ready to leave, and wifey says, "Your perm looks nice, by the way."

I cringe in horror, start pathetically shaking my head no because I can't speak. She laughs and says, "I know, I'm just teasing you." Take pity on the half-paralyzed face girl, would you?

Later that night, while my face was still numb (I couldn't even feel my ear!), Nikki called to talk to me about the continual drama between her and my brother. I won't go into it. But it was difficult to be nice and carry on a conversation when my tongue lies limply in my mouth. (Attractive, isn't it?)

Tuesday I worked alone at the library, and it was a madhouse. Extremely busy. At one point, I had about 7-8 people lined up at the circ desk, all needing my help and attention. One boy threw a tantrum because I couldn't find him a Loony Tunes movie. And a woman needed me to make a copy of something for her. I told her that the photocopier was down, and she yells, "Don't do this to me!!" So I pushed up my shirt sleeves and fixed the copier. (Basically, I replaced the toner. But whatev. It was dirty.) Then my ex-stepdad walked in. Drunk. Wanting me to fix his mp3 player. He wasn't fall-down drunk, but he still managed to slur his words. And he almost got to the crying point (yes, he's that sort of drunk). Then it was all, "Oh, I don't want to lose you kids." Silence. "But I guess I already did." Der. Anyway, I finally told him that I had work to do and got him to am-scray. Ai yi yi.

Kristen and I talked last night, and I confessed all that had happened. She laughed a lot at my mishaps. "You have to admit," she said, "it is pretty funny."

Later, after I got off the phone, I decided to paint my nails since I haven't done so in months and months. *sigh* Of course, the top fell off of the brush, and I ended up getting polish all over my hand. And foot. Don't believe me?





And my jaw still aches from the dentist's oh-so-tender massage. So take a lesson from Auntie April, boys and girls. Don't go shopping with my mother.

And all of that time you thought I was sad, I was trying to remember your name.

Here are a few more Jersey and Aaliyah pictures from last week. I didn't get a chance to post them sooner due to work and/or the Internet not working.

My friend Sharon and I went to a softball game Thursday night after having Chinese for dinner. We went to cheer on our friend, Pete. But he never showed up. We still had fun anyway. The pitcher for the other team was this young guy with fluffy, curly hair that would bounce when he ran. We called him Sanjaya. I tried to take a pic, but he was too far away. I did get to hear another baseball player's cell phone go off, though. Why is that interesting, you ask? Well, because his ringtone was "YMCA" by The Village People, that's why.

Anyway, the other major thing that happened was that I recently got in touch with Tony again after a 2-year silence. He's actually on Myspace, and my friend Jen encouraged me to email him. Some of my dear friends were justifiably hesitant about it. I know that they only had my best interests at heart and that they were worried that I'd start liking him again. But I missed him and emailed him anyway. And guess what? After several emails and one instant messaging chat, I can honestly say that those old feelings have not resurfaced. In fact, it's such an amazing relief to be able to close that chapter so completely. I'd like to remain friends with Tony, but even by his own admission, he has a lot of growing up to do. Though there are qualities that he possesses that I'm sure I'll look for in another guy, he is by no means the one. You know?

YEEESSSSSSSS!!

"Never dorken my door again."

Well, as you know, I went up to Kristen's brand new house in Superior last weekend to help her move. It was pretty exhausting, but fun and fulfilling, too. And since I had my new digital camera, I have a couple pictures to share with you.

One of the highlights of moving, at least in my opinion, is unpacking little knick-knacks and decorations and deciding where to put them. Here we have Kristen enthusiastic about finding her stash of unicorn figurines. She claims not to remember being that into unicorns, but take a look at her excited expression.



After all of her unicorn treasures were found, she knew exactly where she wanted to put them: in the guest bedroom for her visitors to enjoy!



But after all that unpacking fun, there was a lot of dishes to wash.

Luckily, Kristen's dad installed the dishwasher, so we were saved from that chore! I would show more pictures, but I'm sure Kristen would like to post some of her own once she gets it looking the way she envisions. Plus, the rest of the pictures show Kristen growing more and more irritated at my continual picture taking. I did help pick out her curtains for the living room and dining room, and we put together an end table, her tv stand, and a bathroom shelving unit. We're awesome.

So, other than moving furniture and boxes, doing moving-in type things, the weekend was uneventful. I mean, we did have a good laugh at her neighbor across the street when we saw him staring at himself in a gigantic mirror, gesturing wildly at his mirrored reflection, and then suddenly falling over. We gathered that Kristen will have many more moments to enjoy his weirdness, as we imagined Kristen sitting in her darkened living room staring across the way and silently smoking a cigarette. Not that she actually smokes, but it made the fantasy that much funnier.

I told Kristen that when my car loan is all paid off, which should be this week, I'd like to go back to Curves. Except instead of saying Curves, I said Culver's. Repeatedly.

And we decided that anytime someone unwanted shows up at her house, she should say, "Never dorken my door again." It's the perfect insult. :)

Anyway, in work-related news, we had a second break-in that resulted in stolen money. When I spoke with the police officer, I let him know how annoyed I was about him saying it was just our "overactive imaginations." He says, "I don't know where she (my boss) came up with that. I never said that!" Right. Anyway, I told him my very meticulous and thought-out theory on how the intruder was getting in (which door, etc.), and he just said, "Well, that doesn't mean anything." And he kept concentrating on the porn on the computers. The second time he came to the library, he waves his hands toward our circ desk monitor and says, Dubya-esque, "Now, uh...are you, uh, wireless?" Like he wasn't sure of the terminology.

Me: No. And my boss already gave you that information.

PO: Oh. Well, uh. I thought maybe that's how they were getting porn on the computers. They were hacking in from outside the building.
Me: *deep breath, trying not to sound like a bitch* Regardless. That wouldn't explain the missing money. Or the missing notes. Or the furniture moved.

PO: *puts his hand on his hip, shakes his head* Oh, yeah. That's right.

I could have screamed. So freaking stupid. So, although my theory didn't "mean anything," once the lock had been changed (the lock I said the intruder must have found an extra key for), no more unauthorized visits. Hmm, but what do I know? I'm just a stupid girl who works in a library.

Anyway, here's a pic of Aaliyah that I took today. Isn't she just an adorable, toothless love bug?

Don't you just want to squeeze those little cheeks?

Heart of a Nerd

I was going to post a picture of the cover I made for the mix cd, but I've given up after 48 attempts. However, I did get the cds made, and those of you living outside Wisconsin who requested a mix will get yours dropped in the mail today. I hope it makes you oh so happy.

Heart of a Nerd was created not only to celebrate general nerdiness, but also to seduce and nurture your own inner, sexy nerd.

Dear Assface Biker,

So sorry to interrupt your public brooding and menacing stance. I didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities and get your kerchief in a bunch by wondering if you were coming into the library. I didn't realize smoking and wearing black leather in front of the public library with a crowd of other bikers was the cool thing to do at 9 a.m. on a Saturday. Gee, it sure would be nice to open the windows to allow some fresh air to circulate. But I guess you guys need to smoke a few more cigarettes before heading out. Hope you swallow a bug while enjoying the open road.

Love, April

Dear Bald Sir at the Grocery Store,
Nice "No Fear" ankle tattoo. I guess 1995 is alive and well, if only on your hairless leg.
Love, April

Conversations:

Last week my grandma was obsessed with how pretty the moon was. One night she came up to my room and noticed I had the shade drawn over my window.
Grandma: How come you have the shade down? You can't see that big, full moon outside.
Me: Because I didn't want anyone to see my big, full moon.
Grandma: Oh, you! *laughing*

My mom was kneeling on the living room carpet when Jersey decided to climb up. She ended up sitting more on the top of my mom's (mini) stomach roll.
Jersey: No, Gram. I wanna sit on your other lap.

Last night my mom and I were on the phone discussing American Idol since she and I are both Bee Gees fans. My mom has a major thing for Barry Gibb.
Mom: John accused me of checking out Barry's package.
Me: Were you?
Mom: Well, yeah! I thought I was being sneaky, but I saw him noticing.
Me: You saw John noticing Barry's package, too?
Mom: NO!

Yesterday at work, I was helping two guys at the computer. One guy printed a map. He came up to the desk to pay for it. I told him how much it was.
Guy #2: Don't forget, you didn't pay last time you printed something.
Guy #1: Oh, yeah! That's right.
Me: Don't worry about it. The first time's a freebie.
(My face suddenly turns red.)
Guy #1 and Guy #2: OOOHHHH!!!
Me: Lesson learned. No matter how innocent I mean it, never say "first time's a freebie" to men.

And Amanda just informed me of a new Jersey classic this morning. Amanda woke up first and went to the bathroom. From where the bathroom is, you can see right into her bedroom. Jersey woke up and rolled over.
Jersey: Hi, Momma.
Amanda: Hi, Jerz.
Jersey: Whatchu doing?
Amanda: Just going potty.
Jersey: Okay.
Jersey turns back over and farts really loud.
Jersey: Ah, my fart said good morning to me.

Stinko de Mayo

I was planning to blog on Saturday, but I got sidetracked with a library mystery. I can't really go into details, but it involves a possible break-in and a whole lot of porn on the computers. Yeah. Lucky me. And I thought the Ides of March were bad.

Oh, and it's always reassuring when the police officer you're reporting a possible crime to thinks that it's just your over-active imagination. Nice.

"You know how it's hard to be friends with me because I'm so awesome? Well, it's about to get harder."

My life is mega boring. My dreams, however, are pretty sweet. I've made out with two boys, 2 nights in a row. And last night? I totally had super powers. It was awesome.

For lack of anything exciting, I'll give you a couple more Jersey stories. I know, I know. She isn't even 3 yet, and she's already more blog-worthy than me.

My mom, her boyfriend John, and Jersey were outside one warm spring day. It was quite windy, and Jersey was wearing a sundress. The wind whipped her dress up over her head. After fighting to put it back down, Jersey turned to my mom and John and said, "What the hell was that?"

Jersey got her first tour of her soon-to-be new school (Headstart). One of the teachers was asking Jersey some questions. They started talking about American Idol.
Teacher: Jersey, who is your favorite American Idol?
Jersey: Um, Chris Daughtry.
Teacher: Ooh, I agree. I like Chris Daughtry.
Jersey: I like Chris Daughtry, but I hate dog puke.
Teacher: I hate dog puke, too.

Jersey was dancing in the sunlight on the kitchen floor. She asked my mom what the light was.
Mom: That's just the sun shining through the window.
Jersey: Like a summer day in 1995.
(Seriously. She said that. We have no idea why.)

Here's something exciting for all you music lovers out there. I am working diligently on making an awesome mix cd. I won't divulge the theme yet, but it'll gently rock your face off. I have a few people already in mind to send the mix to, but I'm also willing to share it with a few others. You can email me now if you'd like a copy, or wait until I post a pic of the cover to see if you're interested. April's email: newdorktimes at gmail dot com