I found someone who sneezes more sneezes than I sneeze!

This is the way I sneeze, and I've been doing that a lot this morning (I blame all the sanding Whit and I did in her bathroom last night, in prep for the Big Paint Job), but I think this Panda may have me beat with the sneeze count. Or at least a close tie.

Most people I know sneeze like this:



And just like the mama bear, it scares the bejesus out of me.

By the way, don't Panda Bears totally look like they could have a zipper running down there back? I bet they're all in costume, and the real fur of a Panda Bear is just something plain and boring....



Double by the way, I typed the words "naked bear" into google to find this image, and unless you like a fresh dose of PORN in the morning, I don't recommend you do the same.

Hidden Treasures, Hidden Pleasures

Floating around somewhere in this house, there is a playing card.This is not your average playing card however, oh no! it's quite special. You see this card features a picture of a naked man and his ahem, man bits. Why do I own such a playing card you ask? Well, I'll tell ya.

At my friend Jessica's bachelorette party the theme was everything pink, and everything penis. Penis cake, penis ice cubes, penis balloons, penis playing cards; it was quite a display. I saw these cards and just could not resist, and so, I pocketed two. I knew I'd feel guilty for being the reason Jessica's sister no longer had a full deck of penis cards, but, at the time that did not matter; I had to do it.

The plan was to take these cards and hide them somewhere in my boyfriend's belongings, preferably in a place where after finding the cards, public humiliation would be imminent (am I evil?). I hid them inside his bag, between the pages of the book he was currently reading. Before he could find them however, I told him about it, changing my mind about the whole public humiliation thing (see, NOT evil!). And from this began the "Hide The Penis Card Game". I hide it and he finds it and we laugh, and then he hides it and I find it and we laugh some more. It's really a lot of fun, you should try it! It's gone back and forth a couple times I think, but now he's hidden it somewhere and I can't find it. And it's driving me crazy. I told him tonight that I STILL had not found it, and he was quite surprised..."YOU haven't found it YET?" Which made me think it was in some kind of place where I really should have found it by now. "Did you bury it deep in my underwear drawer? Or is it in my laundry basket or something? You know I take forever to do laundry..."

And he said?

"Nope".

So where the heck is it? How can I sleep at night, knowing that somewhere lurking in the shadows there lies a ween? I can't, that's how....great.

A little unsure...

I'm spankin' new to this "professional working world" and I'm also not from England, so I think I need a little help. Remember that scary interview I went to last week? A dream job, and potential dream career? Of course you do. Well at the end of that interview, I was told to "keep in touch" and to "check out some museums" and I was also given a phone number and a "I've got a lot of free time so let me know if you do go to any museums..." but none of it seemed too weird. So then, really wanting this job, I called to "check in" and I mentioned that I was going to see a museum, and somehow we decided to meet up and check one out together. After hanging up I had a slight panic attack but was calmed after talking to my boyfriend and my best friend; they both thought it was a good idea. After all, it seems perfectly acceptable that an art dealer would want to take a could be employee to a museum to attest their knowledge on art and to see if they're capable of speaking about art intelligently (which really, who knows if I can do that, I don't).

I met him yesterday, at the Orlando Museum of Art and together we walked through their Norman Rockwell exhibit. I wouldn't be lying if I said I enjoyed myself, I did, I like art and seeing some really famous paintings up close and personal made me feel all gitty inside; almost like seeing a celebrity. He definitely knows his art, and gave me plenty of background on Norman Rockwell, or any other artist we happened to see, but it all seemed like chit chat: "Oh I like those colors" and "Wow, that one's really got a message". I didn't think much of it at the time, but then last night laying in bed I started to see how date-ish the whole thing seemed. He bought me a souvenir (two 2.00 postcards but still), he was ready to do something else afterwards, and after I told him I needed to meet my boyfriend and we said our good-byes, he hugged me. Now, I know certain people are "huggers" but I'm certainly not. Unless we make-out all the time, or you are close family, I do not like to be touched. Or stood too closely to. The hug wasn't creepy though, it was quick and painless, but it was awkward. Just like the kind of hug you'd give your backwoods cousin, the one you haven't seen in seven years, who may or may not have teeth, and who's been eyeing you all night? Yeah just like that, one light pat on the back and you're outta there. We also barely talked about the job, barely as in like two sentences, and that makes it seem date-ish too.

I could be completely overreacting here, he never crossed the line, or said anything inappropriate, and I have a wonderful reputation for over analyzing. Who knows, maybe I'll feel really stupid in a couple of weeks when I get this great job, and I think back to how I thought he was trying to wine and dine me.

I really hope I get to feel stupid.

Photo Shoot of Horrors

My friend Jessica just sent me an email with the link to the professional pictures from her wedding a couple weekends ago. The picture taking process was a lot of fun, (especially with the added help of mimosas and wine) and to see how nice the pictures came out is just the frosting on the cake ya know? Except for one minor problem, the "funny face" pictures. Drinking plus "funny face" pictures is never a good idea for me, especially with my friend Whitney in tow. We just do NOT know how to restrain ourselves. Really, it's a problem.

Check out the left side of the picture:

Oh, aren't those faces so funny! Look at the tongues and the crooked eyes! Perfectly acceptable "funny faces".

Now, check out the right side of the picture, where Whitney and I are shown. DISCLAIMER: If you have a weak stomach, please do not look, and Pete, for real, just use your imagination...

Prepare yourself, and see us HERE.

I warned you!

We've learned our lesson, painfully. Now, we're not saying those faces will never see the light of day(or night) again, but next time we'll save them for those drunken nights in the safety of our home, or maybe even a local bar, but a wedding? No. Never again. Never.

Guilty Pleasures Anyone?

I really hate to admit it, but sometimes I like watching American Gladiators. I know, I know, please don't shun me? The thing is it's really, really funny, it's also always disturbing, but it can be funny as well. Take tonight for example. Right before the obstacle course thing where they shoot things at each other (see I'm not so diluted to the point of knowing the games) this "fire-fighter" chick comes up to the camera and spouts the usual cheesy smack, and takes her place to start the game. The time starts and she gets to the sling shot, pulls back and out shoots the tennis ball...oh wait, nope, it falls flat, doesn't even make it past the little shieldy thing! Try number two and she fails AGAIN!! What a loser! Then (and this is where I think I peed a little laughing), she runs up to the ball-launcher-shooter-gun-whatever, loads it, and points it in the wrong direction! The announcer starts screaming "she's got it the wrong way, it's the wrong way!" and then whuuump the ball goes flying BACKWARDS! Really? Don't these people have to try out for this? Then they re-play it in slow-mo and again, I think I peed a little. So funny.

And my favorite part? The Eliminator. On tonight's episode, our star player of the evening, does a backwards somersault on the treadmill-whatever and slides down ass up, and over her head...

I mean, I know these girls are working hard and all, and I'm sure I couldn't do it, but really, can you watch this without laughing?




Didn't think so.


But as I've mentioned, this show is also quite disturbing, and I feel I can illustrate this best with another video. Don't force yourself to watch it all...make it to 00:41 you've seen all you need to see.




If you easily frighten'd, beware of Titan...Shakity-Shake Shake....BARF.

In other news I've been on a strict diet of Chinese food for the second day in a row, and guess what I'm eating tomorrow? Yup that's right! I was doing so good too, cooking new foods every night, healthy (well semi-healthy) foods, and now I'm all about the sweet and sour. It's just so tasty... and cheap too! And right now that's a really tempting combo for me. Chinese food also equals fortune cookies, and I'm always down for some good advice! Tonight my cookie told me "Always stay close to your friends, especially if he owes you". Brilliant. I think all this sugarized goodness is giving me stomach aches, so I promise not eat anymore after I finish off this batch, swear. I also don't want the girl in there to start recognizing me and asking "sweet sour?" before I can even say my order. No that wouldn't be good, so I'm going to avoid going there for a while...or at least a week.

Blogging Burdens

They say you should dance like no one is watching, and I think it is safe to say I continuously accomplish that; unfortunately. But what I have found lately, is that this same methodology does not really apply to my writing: it's hard for me to write like no one is reading. Really, not many people are reading, mainly just my close friends, my boyfriend, and maybe sometimes a sister, and other than that I'd just assume a few random people come here and read, and then maybe even a few not so random people come here and spy. So what's got me all hung up? Why do I find a mental block sometimes when I come here to write? I can't really say, maybe it's just that all this blogging stuff is still a pretty new thing for me, but either way, I'm going to start trying really, really hard to not care. What does that mean for you, the few people who do read this? You'll most likely see entries that really have no sort of huge relevance, or importance. I actually started not caring only moments ago, hence the post about hair loss. So if you find yourself uninterested, I'm sorry, but this blog is just for me. Aren't I a selfish one.

Hair today, gone tomorrow...

I shed...a lot. It's rather annoying, and I don't really get it, except that I think it's a genetic thing. My sister always has hair around her room, my other sister always used to leave big ass hair balls in the shower that would eventually clog the drain (forcing my poor dad to fish them out with a wire hanger...yuck!) and even my niece is a shedder. She recently made me a graduation card, where she drew a picture of me and then taped pink pieces of construction paper to the card as "snow". Mixed in with the snowy bits of pink paper was a stand of her hair that found it way into the mix, and never found it's way out.

My friends unfortunately are forever affected by my shedding and never hesitate to tell me about it. Whitney once found a stand of my hair inside the glove compartment of her car, Todd often gets stands of my hair in his laundry, and Pete, as I've just found out, finds them in very interesting places as well.

Check out his "One word" post for strand:

sleeping next to master shedder,("Master Shedder" is a nickname (one of the "nicknames") Pete has so lovingly given me. Clever, ain't he?)you will wake up to find hairs in very unorthodox places on your body. These strands are far longer than the typical hairs found in these positions on the human body and often, they are wrapped in very peculiar ways in very peculiar places.

HA! That's all I got to say about that...

Maybe I should try that Marsha Brady technique and brush my hair no less than 100 times right before bed, and right in the morning...and after breakfast...after lunch...mid day hair brush...evening hair brush...

That would fix it. Eh, no it probably wouldn't. Oh well!