Vacation, please.

I, quite desperately, want to go on a road trip spanning from California to Florida. I want to hop in my (very untrusty) car, tumble out on a beach somewhere, visit best friends in Illinois and Tennessee, stop at small antique stores in small towns, sing to mixes made for rolling down the windows, never wash my wind-tangled hair, enjoy the road and the sunrises and the sunsets and end up at this magical place:





Mapquest tells me it will only cost $600 in gas...

Last night I had the most terrible dreams about bears. I blame the whale incident. But I love bears, seriously, I am like a bear advocate. These nightmares ruined my life. My family and I were camping and swimming in the lake alongside a pack of bears. They were being adorable and splashing us and rolling around when one of them just snapped and started running (on the water, yes) towards a little child, growling and being generally terrifying. Not wanting to see what was about to happen, I started running with my parents towards the forest. There we stumbled upon more angry bears and a terrifying chase ensued. Ending with us all being eaten. By wild, rabid bears.

I can't even tell you how much I hate my subconscious right now. I will never be able to enjoy Bear World again. Okay, that's a lie I can, but still. Bears were like the one thing I wasn't scared of in the wilderness. and wolves. I do like wolves. Cue next frightening dream...

I forgot to put a title until just now

I am about to show you the most beautiful bicycle to ever grace my eyes:



and now a confession: I am too scared to ride a bike around the city. Even though it is a baby city, I am terrified of being one with cars when all I have is a slight metal frame and a Styrofoam helmet to protect me.

I don't know the etiquette of real-life bike riding. I'm good as long as there are bike lanes, but once it is me and the bare street...terror. I'm telling you. Do I do arm signals? Switching lanes when I need to turn left?!?? What if someone drives to close to me and hits me with their side-view mirror? Havoc. In my mind riding a bicycle downtown is havoc.

Update: I just ate one of those those cheese and cracker things with the sweet little red stick and it had so much cheese on it that I almost threw up...It seems I am no longer a child capable of loving insane amounts of processed cheese. Sad.

When does Gossip Girl come back on? Seriously.

I am not Catholic...not at all, but every year I give up something for lent (Lent? Don't even know) because I have usually already failed at New Year's resolutions and to keep Melanie company in her Catholicism.

This year I have given up shopping.

This morning I got an email from Forever 21, subject: Get your romp on.

(Reference last post)

(Reference I hate being so materialistic)

Not going to lie, I am really struggling through the last half of winter. So much that I decided to go tanning and then my poor skin shriveled up at the thought and cancer instantly sprang up on my arms and thank you very much magazine articles about the dangers of tanning beds because I think I will just save my $8 and buy pistachio macarons and wallow.

I'm basically just writing this blog post so the minutes will edge towards 1:00 when I have promised myself a sandwich and a lap around the office. What a treat! The real sadness lies in the fact that I have been amped about this sandwich since, oh, 10 a.m. and that I actually hate sandwiches.

In other news related to me, I hate Avatar. Just throwing that out there. Judge accordingly. It gets worse each time I have to sit through three hours of the most HORRIFICALLY cheesy dialogue I have heard since the one time I watched the Mormon version of Beauty and the Beast.

My mom made me.

Judge accordingly.

I'm hungry

Let me tell you about a new little love of mine called a romper.




For those unaware, that is the romper that I am currently pining after. I have a renewed interest in wearing only clothes i can buy for under $5 at Thrift Town. Luckily, there are rompers in every shape, color, size and floral pattern to satiate my desire... Through fraught with peril (ie trying to quickly go to the bathroom before you pee your pants- next to impossible in a romper, FYI) wearing one reminds me of spring. and spring reminds me that I will not be cold and devoid of sunlight for eternity.

Oh, so this weekend I bought a glue gun. Does anyone read any cute crafty-type Web sites that don't make you feel like you are nearly geriatric? (Hannah, I know what you are thinking.) I don't have television anymore so I am thinking I will need a hobby for the evening hours...

A short essay on why moving out is not the same when you are 18 as when you are 22

Well, well it appears I am now renting an apartment. I say appears because I am not actually sure what just happened. Deven and I went to look at a place and all the sudden it was like cute entry...Wood paneling?... Why is there a sink in the living room?... Oh but I love the windows... Please sign this lease. And it was done. To the apartment's credit, it IS cute and I HAVE been needing to downsize my belongings by like, oh, I don't know 70 percent.

Anyway, the point is, I am moving out! I can't wait for the wild nights in which I will stay up past 11 p.m. and then be cranky the next morning when I wake up at 7 to go to work! Oh ho ho neighbors, you better watch out for the soft indie-folk tunes that will be pouring out of my stereo during those late nights. That smell? Oh that's just my INCENSE (burned strictly because I like the scent, not to cover drug use of any sort) suckaaaa!

Yesterday I used dry shampoo in a desperate attempt to avoid showering and it made my hair turn a shade of gray that could only be remedied by taking a shower. Isn't that ironic. Are those two thoughts related? I'm not sure.

A post in which I excessively use footnotes

Each day, as I sit in the office and try to make up tasks for myself*, I grow more and more socially awkward. It begins from the time I walk into the features nook and decide if "Hello" or "Good morning" would be more appropriate. It usually comes out as "Hellorning."

From there it generally speeds downhill as I internally debate what, exactly, I should be doing and whether or not I should speak to my co-workers/editors**. Then I compulsively drink water bottles until it is 5 p.m.; at which point I can gather my belongings, whisper "Goodbye" and get out of the elevator on the wrong floor and wander around until I find my car as the other writers drive by, undoubtedly puzzled at why I look like a crazed hobo searching for shelter in the parking garage.

Oh adult life, you're more than I ever dreamed. I commute. I take a lunch (but only when I don't feel awkward about asking to leave. DO I NEED MEDICATION?) I wear office appropriate clothes. This little charade ends come May and is it wrong that I just want to go back to school?



* A conversation that just occurred in my head: "Hmmmm what can I google that looks as if I am doing research when I am not? How to crochet? That might prove useful. But can I make it look like I am NOT, in fact, googling crocheting lessons? Probably not. I guess I will just refresh CNN again to see if they have posted any stories about celebrities because THAT is what I choose to be interested in, not important things like the crisis in Haiti. Which is very sad. It just doesn't make time pass by as quickly as fashion/music/scandal."

** Not because I don't want to, but because my track record is not very good. I generally walk away from conversations re-playing them and cringing at myself for spewing out sentences like "Um, like, that's too funny. Ha." SERIOUSLY?