Mom didn't have time today so we made you this baked apple pie

Sitting in my car feeding bad moods with bad food, nothing good can come of this. I have my dollar menu meal and I feel like everyone walking past my car is judging me. Should I let them in on the party that is happening in my mouth right now? Then would they understand?

I feel like the star of a Sunday afternoon Lifetime movie, urgently stuffing my face with fast food while scanning the shopping plaza store options for a promising bathroom to purge it all in the instant I'm done. If I didn't spend a year of my life throwing up I may seriously consider bulemia as an effective diet option.

There was no question that the overly chipper girl who worked the cash register at the drive-through was new at her job. My total was $3.63 so I handed her a five dollar bill and $.63 cents. She typed "$3.63" into the cash register as if I had given her exact change. When the screen returned a display of "$0" change back, she looked down at the $5 bill in her hand and I watched the blood rush quickly to her cheeks.

She had one of those moments.

That moment where everything in the world stops and you feel like your brain has gone to mush. Heat instantly rises from your back to the nape of your neck, your eyes widen and your breath is no longer in step. A simple math problem turned into an anxiety attack all because she knew I was watching. Now i feel bad for staring, but at the time it was interesting to be on the other side of this moment and i wanted to take it all in.

She froze for a few moments & decided it would be best to give me all of my money back and start over. I felt like telling her "all you have to do is give me $2 back" would make her feel worse and so I gave her the "I'm just as confused!" look and let her redo the transaction. When she leaned over to give me my change she ended up dropping some of it onto the ground. She threw her hands over her mouth and let out a nervous about-to-cry kind of laugh. She apologized profusely and i assured her not to worry about a thing.

I drove off into my dining area (an empty parking space in front of the local Target) and opened up my bag. To my horror/delight, I found not one - but TWO apple pies in the bag. I'm an avid supporter of comfort food. Nothin' says homemade like a McDonald's hot pocket-esque apple pie.

Sometimes one persons error is another persons victory. Sometimes a bad day is all relative.

I'm lovin' it.

"But it's a dry heat"

The airport aspect of traveling always intrigues me. I find it unfortunate that every traveler comes to the airport anxiety-filled and frantic. Their flight is the most important and they throw a fit when they are pulled to the side at the security check point to have their pockets inspected. We are all here for the same reason and I imagine that regular airport employees find the sight of it all rather comedic. Like assuring an impatient child that yes, I am listening to you but no, I am not going to jump through hoops to look at your paper cut because it will eventually heal. For now I will pat you on your back and talk to you in a calm demeanor. Now, go to your gate.

You also get a chance to eavesdrop in on goodbye phone calls to loved ones. It’s always, “i love you. I’ll call you when I land”. But you know that the tone and unspoken intent of the conversation is, “know that i love you, if i don't land.”

We hit some pretty rough turbulence on the airplane and it makes me laugh when people push against the ceiling of the plane or grab onto their armrests to support themselves as this is happening. The last thing I want to grasp onto as I am free-falling is the very reason for me free-falling in the first place. At this point I’d rather flap my arms real fast, pull a parachute out of my book bag, or quite simply shoot myself in the face. As the plane was erratically dipping through pockets of air, I felt my stomach in my throat and decided to put on some music, something both reflective and epic. I thought to myself, “if I were to plummet to my death right now, at this very moment – what should the soundtrack be? Ah yes, Sigur Ros.”

I ended up in an exit row, immediately next to the emergency escape door and it was the flight attendants duty to say to me, “ma’am, do you feel confident that you can open this exit door in the event of an emergency?” I had to laugh but assured her that I was indeed, up for the task. She mentioned that there was a manual in my “seat-back pocket” for reference if needed. Isn’t that helpful? How kind of them to offer me reading material in the event that we are nose-diving it for the ground. As I am getting pelted in the face with tiny hamburgers and mini cups of scalding hot coffee, I will be sure to thumb around for the pamphlet so that I can properly escort small children and the elderly out of the door and into the clouds, by Continental standards.

I really think airlines should cut the BS and replace the flotation devices and air masks with shotguns and/or toxic gas vents. Better yet, just equip the pilot with a red button that reads “implode” in the event that there really is no chance for survival.

Luckily Sigur Ros did not end up as my death-track and I made it to my destination in once piece (not counting my fractured foot).

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The most fascinating thing about Arizona is how you can actually see and grasp the sky meeting the ground. The Tri-state area gives off the illusion that the sky soars above the buildings, and only people, buses, billboards and other urban fixtures fill up the spaces in between.

While I love home, it’s refreshing to feel like you are immensely surrounded by air head to toe (and above), allowing you to take deep breaths without hesitation. There are not many towering buildings, and they are all spaced out far and in between. Large homes span horizontally, rather than vertically. It makes you feel like a tiny spec on Earth and your perception of it all is immediately snapped into focus.

Know that I love you, if I don’t land. (and you know which artist to play during my eulogy).

The nostril dance

Why is it that when someone is making popcorn, you catch a whiff and get the as-if-it-were-crack feeling?

But then you eat some and are immediately let down. The popcorn says, "gotcha!"

...leaving butter-prints all over everything
weaseling it's way into the tiny spaces in between your teeth
pasting a film in your mouth, causing water to bead up as you sip
worst of all? those thin shells that hide out inside the kernel suction themselves to the back of your throat (dangerously close to the ever-creepy "hangy ball") and cause you to gag.

It's like petting an adorable animal, only to end up getting bitten.

Fight or flight

Small, obvious acts of love are most inspiring.

I was driving home a few hours ago and made a right onto my street. A couple was walking across the street at the same moment that i was turning onto it, directly in my path. In a split second, without even thinking, the guy immediately shoved his girlfriend out of the way and put himself in the path of my car. I slammed on my brakes and the three of us made eye contact. I was so moved by this impulsive act of love and bravery that i didn't even mouth "i'm sorry", all i could do was smile. And then drive off.

The more I think about it, the more i realize that this couple must think i am absolutely mad. Nearly running over two pedestrians and offering nothing but a smile? It must have looked so very sinister.

I really admire people with graceful impulse. I think i am too reflective to offer such honorary reflexes.

I'd like to think that rather than almost breaking two pairs legs, that I instead provided the two with years of stability. You're welcome.

The color palette and obvious softness.

My work email account baffles me. Sending out an important PR announcement email to the entire network via our blast email program usually requires a good few hours of testing, tweaking and adjusting words so that it will make it's way past the companies "tight" spam filters. Yet, i come into work in the morning with a plethora of fun-filled spam messages in my inbox. If you ever have any questions about penis pumps or Viagra, I am your girl. I've even got coupon codes.

Most are organ-enlargement related but this one was a gem. I'm convinced that there's some really powerful cryptic messages between these lines. I believe these came from the Mohandas Gandhi of the binary world. I've bolded some of my favorite lines.
------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Hilary Shipman [mailto:curredhj21@tischlerei-wagner.com]
Sent: Monday, April 27, 2009 12:56 PM
Subject: [Spam] With a bigger device you will feel a bigger man.

1. in the craft room i throw everything on the homework table. that clears up the floor for more mess craft making.
ok, i'm off to knit...
i told cate about st. patrick's day and ireland- she has a lot of irish ancestors through me.
last minute trip to idaho to see my sister- so much better than home blogging!
see you then!
i am trying to be a patient, kind mom.
my happy plans for this evening include knitting and watching two favorite movies: far and away followed by tristan and isolde
i am craving some sunshine.
i love the color palette and obvious softness.
i am going to turn on some good music and choose to be happy.
my happy little life
interested? i think it would be so fun.
i am so grateful for quiet time with the scriptures
i made this one for a gift, but i've already cast on another for moi.
3. i think that packages stacked all over the house are a nice decorative touch (and they remind me how good people are to donate to project 31) happy things!
i found that amazing old shirt (we're big fans) at the thrift store for $1 and it's so soft.
you've gotta love people with humor like that.
she'll be here friday and saturday april 3rd and 4th, and she'll be taking appointments for all day/ night both days at my house.
i always enjoy knitting lacy stuff but this pattern was especially fun, super easy, and portable.
let's give a hand to the world, for everything it can do!!
------------------------------------------------------------------
Note to self: the next time an important work email that you're trying to send gets blocked, change the subject line from "Introducing our new CEO" to "With a bigger device you will feel a bigger man."

Delight

I knew today was going to be a good day because i dared to put my iPod (kelpod) on shuffle and it played some of my absolute favorite songs from my favorite artists. I'm talking every song. I have a lot of random things on my iPod so the "shuffle" feature can be really risky. There's the potential for random books-on-tape tracks to play (halfway through the story) or tracks from mix's that past love's have made for me. On my way to work I'll usually listen to my regular weekly podcasts but on Friday's i stray from talk-radio type clips and instead prefer melody.

Speaking of podcasts, maybe my elation is a product of aftermath because last night was absolutely fan-tas-tic. I went to go see my favorite podcast (This American Life) performed live at NYU. I felt like a child watching Sesame Street live, on the edge of my chair - big goofy smile, laughing and clapping loudly at everything. Ira Glass is the cutest thing since baby shoes. I want to hang him from my rear view mirror and hit a button that will cause him to giggle uncontrollably. If you've never listened to it, are you on crack? You may be. But if I'm mistaken, go download it - now. I'll have to write a separate post on TAL (oh yes, there's even acronymatic lingo) because i can go on and on...

Lastly, I'm having a damn good eyebrow day. When I'm not happy with my eyebrow artwork, my entire day is thrown off. I mean - check out that killer arch, would you?

Multi-purpose "signs"

Signs make things seem so official. Someone feels that a statement is so very important that it must be adorning a sheet of thin metal, posted up for all to see.

...this is exactly the reason that when i find errors in signage, I find it absolutely amusing and completely fantastic.

Exhibit A
I was in a restaurant last week and came upon this beaut at the salad bar. I was so thrown off that i had to take a picture of it.



- Shouldn't there be something to balance this sign out? There are only clean plates on this salad bar. To warrant a glance of my eye I'd appreciate it if there were a "Place Used Plates Here" sign to even things out, along with a stack of plates littered with tomato snot and withered lettuce, oozy with chlorophyll.

-Maybe they were just gloating on the fact that they clean their plates? In that case the "clean" warrants some italicization.

-Are they calling their customers pigs? Like, "Hey, slob. How about you not reuse your plate to get your second helping? There's an entire stack of clean one's here."

Exhibit B
A sign on the refrigerator at work



-What's up with the quotation marks? Is that sarcasm? Is this a "joke" and you're actually going to dispose of my entire stack of lean cuisines every day rather than at the end of the week like you "promised"?

- Is this a ploy to keep things out of your icy belly?

Exhibit C
Plastic cutlery dispenser at work



- In case you forgot, spoons are no longer limited to just soup. Having cereal? Grab a spoon! Chili? We've got the tool for you. Oatmeal? You're all set.

- And why are the spoons the only one's labeled as versatile? Can i not use a fork to eat my salad and stab myself in the eye when i don't feel like working any more?

'sup, girl?

be mine.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

Never let the microwave run full length until it beeps. Always always turn it off before it beeps, preferably at :02. :01 can be risky but it's fun to take risks, isn't it? Like holding in a sneeze for as long as you can. If i let it beep then how will Panasonic ever show me any respect? I'm in charge here. Cut film cover to vent. Remove from crisping sleeve. Walk on vent grates in the sidewalk and have fun plummeting to your death. I swear you'll drop right into the molten crispy center of the earth, i prefer the cold so why risk it? Close the bedroom door and tap, tap tap the knob. Wait that was only three, tap again to make four. Odd? Odd is never good. Four makes even steven. Four it is. Never leave your shoes sole-up. Do you want everyone reading you so easily? Run your tongue along the roof of your mouth, the thin bone is slightly over to the left. Not centered and that is responsible for my occasional bouts of vertigo. Ears shmears! Get up from the table, but last. Last so that you're the last one to take a sip of water. Water only. ah, yes - walk away. You're all fools! Should i tell them?

an artist is someone who produces things that people don't need to have but that he, for some reason, thinks it would be a good idea to give them.

departure, but hardly departed.

The world lost a very special person today, and it's no coincidence that the weather cried for her along with the rest of us.

I'm usually wordy, today not so much. April fools day you say? Surely the joke is on us.

pho·bia - \ˈfō-bē-ə\

: an exaggerated usually inexplicable and illogical fear of a particular object, class of objects, or situation

We had our first thunderstorm of the year last night, it was awesome. I love a good light show. Aside from the visuals, the noises are great too. Inanimate objects come to life and are put into motion. Plastic bags take flight and empty garbage cans skate across the cement. It's all so whimsical and exciting.

Then i got to thinking, and my erratic fear kicked in. For me, thunderstorms also bring in the foreshadowing of what's to come in the morning.

Them.

Spring rain means that underground dwellers' homes become flooded. They're forced to wiggle out of the ground and meet the air upstairs. All of the work they've put into burrowing and wriggling into the ground becomes lost. A soggy, murky, tunnel of doom. This is where my own personal hell is laid out in front of me.

Worms.
Dead, engorged, dirt-ridden worms.

Some freshly emerged, curling and uncurling against the surface. Some newly lifeless and limp, slick with earth. Some dried up like a frizzled onion garnish on your steak at T.G.I Fridays. No matter what form they are in, they evoke something inside of me that is simply ungodly. I'm forced to strategically step around their lazy, bloated bodies and it angers me. A sea of emotions swimming around inside of me.

Panic, anger, nerves, anxiousness, terror, revoltion, shortness of breath.

I know it's stereotypically common for girls to shriek at the sight of bugs but, oh no. This is on an entirely different plane. It could be their lack of feet or maybe the fact that they don't have eyes, but given the two they still manage to get around. Cut their tail off and that won't slow them down. You know what? They'll just grow another. They don't have teeth, but they can eat. Doesn't anyone else see that something completely deranged is going on here??

Is their motive of swarming dead bodies not questionable? Multiplying and festering in eye sockets and nipping at flesh folds (may i remind you, without teeth). And it's never just one or two. They call their mothers, grandparents, neighbors, sisters, town mayor, aunts & uncles. A breathing, pulsing cluster of death-eaters.

How can this be ok?

I'm convinced that worms are the spawn of Satan. Oh yes. They come to fester in the dark and feed on your loved ones after they've passed on. And you know what? Even the earth itself doesn't like them. The literal soil, the earth that lies beneath our feet. I know because why else would Earth spit them out like hair-in-the-mouth after it rains?

Religious people may argue that this is all a part of God's blueprints. That worms too, are children of God. Therefore they automatically have purpose and rite of passage. And on the opposite spectrum, those that believe in science, rather than religion, may similarly believe that every species has a purpose of being on this earth - even if only for organic reasons. That they deserve to live and die, just as i do. That when i die, the worms will come to eat me - and will do a fine job of cleaning up my mess of a corpse. Providing nutrients of my worm-digested body back into the earth, where a dandelion will now have an energy source to pull from in order to create a life of it's own. That everything comes full circle. A place for everything, and everything in it's place.

You know what? I don't care. I'm not convinced.

Worms, I'm onto you.

Scoleciphobia | Helminthophobia | Taeniophobia | Teniophobia

junkie

Just now in my early morning fog, i thought about you - my old friend.
...and it made me realize how much better my life would be if you were back in it.

You sped up my heartbeat, gave me the jitters, and mostly - waking up with you in the morning was serene and satisfying.

Coffee, i'm talking about you. Oh yes.

I'd given you up but as I sit here and take you in, the guilt-to-euphoria ratio is leaning heavily to the east.

Stain my teeth, raise my blood pressure, alter my sleep pattern. It's me and you, babe.