I'm pretty sure the technical term is "cranial nubbin"

Well, it's the end of my third day of no-shampoo, and probably the longest stretch of time I have EVER gone voluntarily without shampooing my hair since i was like, five.
And my hair looks and feels awesome.
Yay!
Yesterday my hair didn't feel oily at all, so I just went with what is apparently called a "Mexican shower" where you use a washcloth in the shower to brush your hair to even out the oils in your hair, bring them away from the scalp and down to the ends, which need them. Worked nicely, I had zero hair issues! I also bought a boar bristle brush or something like that, which also accomplishes the evening-out-of-the-hair-oils thing. I then brushed my hair obsessively with that, and it got all shiny and nice. Steve said it looked a little frizzy, and at the end of the day (which for me, sans school, is about 3 AM) i could notice, probably only because it's my hair and i'm freakishly obsessive about greasy hair, that there was the presence of the beginnings of oil--but really, with the brushing, it only looked shiny, as in shiny like the photo-shopped airbrushed girls on shampoo commercials--WHOA.
Today I went back to baking soda as shampoo and apple cider vinegar after that, and my hair is shiny, bouncy and soft. looooooooooooooooooooooooove it.


In other news, my roommate (I should call him "my friend" since we just did get a new roommate [aka Failboat*] who we got off Cragislist but hey) was in the bathroom that he, my boyfriend and I share, for like forty minutes which is how long I spend in the shower, NOT how long a normal guy is supposed to spend in the BATHROOM. And i was sitting down here and I had to pee like WHOA (i drink a fuckton of tea) but since Morgs NEVER takes so long in the goddamn bathroom, I decided to wait it out instead of using the Downstairs Bathroom which is our New Rommate's Bathroom (even though he was out of town at the time) and finally i was like "I HAVE A TINY BLADDER" (fun fact: I just spelled that "BLADDRE") and fled downstairs. And it was a little weird. I felt very invasive and secretive. He has more hair products than I do (the count? ONE).

*I have become oddly addicted to calling things, people, and events Failboats. At least in my head. Car in front of me merging infuriatingly slowly? He's a failboat. I forgot to call a friend? I'm a failboat. Overcooked the spaghetti? Failboat.


some random quotes from chizziling* with friends

"I DID NOT ACHIEVE COMPLETION!"
(the only way I could think to describe why i didn't lose that round of the no-blinking contest --yes, my friends and i are, in fact, five--because i didn't blink ALL the way)

-"Wanna feel my head bump?"
- "Weird!"
- "What's the word for that?"
-"Uh, i'm pretty sure the technical term is 'cranial nubbin.'
-"No, there's like an anatomical name for--"
-"CRANIAL. NUBBIN."


*haha, "chizilling." really sounds weird. by which i mean, looks weird. shoulda said "chizillin" but i'm Not That Cool kthxbai

Penny Arcade is so fucking epic that i find their comics hysterical, even when i have no idea what they're talking about. Examine: Exhibit A

I used to hate running.
HATE it.
haaaaaaaaate it.
Running was hard---i got side cramps within minutes or seconds, my lungs would gasp for breath, my heart would burn.
And i'd be behind the last lagging, struggling jogger in the group.
How. Embarassing.

But now i run.
i run at night.
i run when no one can see me, no one can judge me, no one is awake, no one is looking. no one is sprinting effortlessly on their third lap while i attempt not to vomit just to keep going. i run at night so i can jog as slowly as i want, walk for a bit, stop whenever i get too tired, fuck you high-school gym teacher! fuck you peer pressure, fuck you athletic boulderite kids with your marathons and your endurance.

when i left for my run tonight, my boyfriend asked me "So, you gonna become a runner?"
This made me laugh. "No. I don't do it to run. I do it to be alone. in the dark. in the cold."
He looked utterly bewildered. "Well, when you put it THAT way..."
But i do.
The running is good, when you walk there's too much room for thought.
But i just want to be alone, in the dark, in the cold.
I run to watch the moon disappear behind the clouds. i run to round the corner before a lone car approaches. i run at 1 or 4 in the morning, i run to feel the cold on my face, i run until i peel off my gloves, my hat, my scarf, unzip my jacket, unzip my sweater, shrug off my coat until it hangs awkwardly off my shoulders, i run until i have to carry my coat on the crook of my elbow, i run until my hair falls unsexily out of my lazy ponytailbun, i run until my forehead sweats and my ears are still cold. i run with adrenaline-filled glee past one block of normally-busy city street to disappear behind a dark corner again, free, before another night loner spots this girl in too-white running shoes, baggy plaid pajama pants, bulky down coat and sloppy ponytail. i run because no one's watching. i run to feel my lungs exhale, to feel my feet hit the ground, to remind myself that i am alive, i am right here. this is my body, some miraculous combination of tendons muscles bones joints that let me run, run, run under yellow streetlights under yellow stars, run panting past christmas lights left up and college cars. i run to be a part of that which is humanity, which i mostly sometimes loathe, to be apart from it and alone, but comforted knowing that my fellow human beings are asleep in their beds in the houses i run past. i run to smell the occasional late-night laundry, to see which lights are still on at 3 AM on a sunday. i run because i like sweating when it's cold outside, i run because i like feeling like i'm the only person alive.
like i said,
i run to be alone, in the dark, in the cold.

Going no shampoo (OH. EM. GEE.) Day 1

found another of my old poems from high school:

more real in a role than reality on hold
experiment test let dreamnightmare unfold
this way when you get sick of the play
you back out always halfway
they read the script but don't play the part
in love it's dumb to be so fuckin smart





After randomly stumbling upon an article about going without shampoo (not for like, a day....but FO EVA), I decided to try it. (this, as you will later read, is a REALLY FUCKING BIG DEAL for me and my shampoo obsessoin/dependence). I then spent literally about eight hours researching methods, alternative "shampoos," reading blogs of "no 'poo" people, and reading forums of advice and shampoo-free hair care recipes.
The eight hours miiiiiiiight have been a little overkill, considering it boils down to this:
1. Shampoo is full of horrible chemicals that destroy your hair
2. Don't use it.
3. Use 1 tablespoon of baking soda in 1 cup of water, massage into hair in shower, leave it in for a bit
4. Use 1-2 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar* in 1 cup of water, pour over hair in shower
5. Cut back to only using backing soda 1-2 times a week, apple cider vinegar rinse 1-2 times a month
6. You can use things like chamomile tea or jojoba or coconut oil too

So I tried it!

*Vinegar? Yes, vinegar. And yes, it smells FUCKING NASTY. It made me want to puke a little. Also, after eight hours of research, I used about a CUP instead of a TABLESPOON. See why I don't bake? Countless forums and blogs assured me that the smell would wash out entirely.

It didn't.

I DID use WAY too much, and it wasn't too bad, and I brushed my half-wet hair with a wet brush and that seemed to get it all out, but STILL. It made me sad.

I also probably used too much baking soda. I put a bit in a cup and then added water from the shower to the cup. Since the baking soda fell to the bottom, i mixed it around and then poured it over my hair. My hair almost instantly felt dry, and I couldn't really scrub it in, and it was reaaaaaaally bizarre trying to scrub what felt like nothing into my hair instead of a "rich later" (which, by the way, is the result of the horrible evil chemical sodium lauryl sulfate). So I tried it again, this time dumping a little bit of baking soda into my hand and then mixing it with water with my finger. Again, the weird dryness. I figured I couldn't over-baking soda since baking soda is drying (you can also use salt, especially if you have dry hair) and my hair is disgustingly, unbearably greasy after just a day without showering. At least to me. But I have a horrible, sick, hair-washing, showering addiction. It's really bad. I feel inhuman and appalingly gross if I don't wash my hair for a day. When I was backpacking in South America and didn't shower for a week in the Peruvian Andes, my hair was plastered down to my head. It looked like it was WET. ALL THE TIME. I wore my (only) hat, a WOOL hat 24/7 even when I SLEPT because i couldn't bear to think about, see, or feel my hair. Going without a shower for 2-3 days is not quite as bad, but still makes me angry, cranky, and feel disgusting and unpretty. Anyway, i'm not a fan. I really love SHOWERS, and i don't think i'll give up my happy-making routine of relaxing under hot running water to get ready for my day, but i'd really really loooooooove to not have greasy hair if i don't wash it for a day, i'd love to not have split ends, and i'd love to have naturally healthy hair and not dump chemicals on it and down the drain every day. All of the people who have tried this and posted at all about it anywhere on the internet had really, really good things to say. They get comments on how healthy, shiny, think and bouncy their hair is--no one knows they haven't used shampoo in months or years! So I'm pretty excited.

the results so far: My hair felt weird and a little straw-y when it started drying a little (again, i used way too much of both baking soda and apple cider vinegar). After I brushed through it with a wet brush, it is feeling INCREDIBLY SOFT. incredibly, incredibly, way way soft. And it doesn't smell like vinegar anymore (YAY) and it's.....so soft i can't stop touching it.

i'm pretty nervous about the "rough patch" that's probably coming up (i really can't describe in words my irrational phobia/supreme hatred of greasy hair) but I'm really really happy that baking soda will help, and i can always cut back on the apple cider vinegar.

Holy crap my hair is soft.

Here is the best site i found (after searching THE ENTIRE INTERNET) on going no-shampoo.



In other news: I am horribly, horribly addicted to the blog of the blogess.
Who, by the way, is not actually full of mosquitoes.
When I read that I shot milk out my nose with joyful giggling glee. Metaphorical milk. I don't actually drink milk. I had a scarring milk expericence as a child.
I am not kidding.

evil robot from the future

I was lucky enough to get caught off-guard by this Facebook ad headline* "What will it feel like?"
Pop Quiz: Was this ad for....
a) New website for curious adolescent girls and more sexually experienced women to share information and sex education
b) Evil robots from the future
c) A cell phone

The correct/most fucked up answer? (i'm a ninja,** so i'm not really worried about evil robots from the future***) Yeah, the phone. Really, Blackberry? Couldn't you go with something about how your name is a delicous fruit? (not that I'd know, I don't think I've ever actually eaten a blackberry. DON'T JUDGE ME!)

*Is headline the right word? Can ads have headlines? You know what I'm talking about, right? The motto thing? Witty Catchphrase?

**As a longtime member of the Nerd camp**** it can pretty much be expected that I and all of my friends have Staunch Opinions on the Ninja vs. Pirate war. We're split pretty evenly (I can tell what type of person would be An Awesome Ninja versus some lameass pirate from a mile away) which I personally think is fucking ridiculous because, as far as I'm concerned (which is PRETTY EFFING FAR), Ninjas are fucking NINJAS and NOTHING could EVER kill, harm, come near, or even SEE a ninja, so why are we even HAVING this argument. Pirates are smelly and stinky and drunk and have scurvy and smell bad. Ninjas kill people like WHOA. Again, WHY are we talking about this?? Maybe I should ask a ninja.

***Looking back, that logic seems kind of random, but just to explain, since I am a ninja, I don't think that evil robots from the future would be more fucked up than using an awkwardly sexual ad headline for a phone. And looking back on that, I didn't really explain myself. I am a true ninja. A word ninja. That's a GOOD thing. HA! NINJA STAR!

****, when I thought/typed the word "camp" I remembered that old Nickelodeon show Salute Your Shorts...wow...good times. OH! And I'm totally in this Facebook group called "I HATE When Kids Can't Put Together the Shrine of the Silver Monkey." Because I do. I HATE it.


wow, sorry about that. It was getting kind of out of control out there in Asterick land. OH MY GOD. I just remembered having an intense conversation with a friend in which I insisted that Asterick would be an AWESOME name, and I really want to name my future child that. Boy or girl? Doesn't matter, they're both ASTERICK! It's like....an asteriod kicking your ass. Or a stripper name. Ass Trick. Sounds hot. DUDE. ALSO, they could just draw a little messy star next to the line that says Name_____ and their teachers would always be like "EXCUSE ME" and they'd be like "THAT'S MY NAME DON'T JUDGE ME! LAWSUIT!" And i'd be rich.

....I'm gonna go now.


okay i lied. i've been thinking about it....an evil NINJA robot from the future would scare the shit out of me.
Evil Ninja Robot.
From THE FUTURE.
Shit.
We're all fucked.

I am fairly literate, and know many words.

eeeek! my muse is back, and i haven't written in Far Too Long.


I really, really hated finals this week this year. Not that that's New or Unusual or Exciting, but seriously. I don't mind tests, even finals, because I'm totally cool with studying. However, i am TOTALLY NOT COOL with having huge, multi-month group projects due FINALS WEEK mere DAYS before the final in that class (btw, if we have said project, how exactly is a final necessary let alone not totally evil?). I especially despise multiple teachers pulling this shit. Mostly, though, as i vented about on my FCQs (I take that shit seriously--I HAVE OPINIONS.), what i hate is this: my spanish phonetics teacher does that count-you-off-ones-over-here-twos-over-there thing that I LOAAAAAAAAATHE. (did i mention i hate it? i fucking hate it.) Here's how demeaning I find it: i teach preschool (PRESCHOOL!) and i would never do that to those four-year-olds. Oh, you think i need to socialize with The Other Children? thanks! thanks for that. you, who teaches entirely from the book (i litearally never once took notes in that class, merely underlined in the textbook) and yet still counts attendance as a grade. If someone can get an A in a class without EVER FUCKING GOING, you should let them, and not go on some fucking power-trip ego boost by taking attendance in college.

Vent: Completed.

alrighty then.


I Am A Freak Because I Hate...
-sushi.
-Queen
-cheesecake

(yeah, BRING IT!!!!!!!!)


Speaking of getting shocked, angry looks when i mention i don't like cheesecake (CREAM CHEESE BELONGS IN BAGELS, NOT DESSERT, PEOPLE!), I get the best looks from people who offer me whipped cream in my mocha. Always some dude who leans aross the counter and goes "would you like some whipped cream?" like he just offered me an orgasm. So my flippant "no thanks!" really pisses them off. Shocked. Angry. I JUST OFFERED YOU WHIPPED CREAM, YOU BITCH. clearly any woman who doesn't sexily lick the whipped cream from any drink or desert is Disgusting and Horrid. What A Bitch.
i love it.

k speaking of offended, and about that whole Vent: Completed thing (hint: lies. all lies)....funny story. So i've last week i was working on a 40-page Turkish morphology project, an final paper analyzing and transcribing Spanish dialectical phonology, a 20-minute memorized Chinese final presentation, Chinese homework, studying for Chinese/Physics/Morphology and Spanish Phonetics, getting 4-5 hours of sleep a night and this happens:

boyfriend asks roommate to join a video game because it requires 2+ people to start the game. said roommate joins, plays for a few minutes, then says (AND I QUOTE) "i'll play later when i have time." and i look up from my Chinese*, sleep-deprived and stressed and wired and touchy: "HOW DO YOU NOT HAVE TIME." boyfriend says: "just because he makes his own priorities..." and i repeat: "AGAIN. HOW DO YOU NOT HAVE TIME."

*anything sounds more badass when you precede it with "Chinese"

why the anger? why the FUUUUUUUUUURY? because you have time. know how i know you have time? you get to sleep in til 10 every day before work. when you get off work, you watch a few hours of family guy before playing some video games before watching some more tv and reading. sure, you're working on a neat project, but it's your HOBBY and you LOVE it. it's not DUE tomorrow. you're not getting GRADED. so you don't so much "not have time" as are "choosing to do one hobby as opposed to the other before getting 8 hours of sleep and having no obligations or deadlines."

Deeeeep breaths.*

(not *breathes. that's the verb. "kaley breathes." "breath" is the noun. "take a deep breath."\

BOOK FORT!

gramma, bananas, and WHERE THE HELL IS MY ANGER MANAGEMNT BOOK?!

let's try something new today, kids! i'm going all old-school gramma. (note the hip droppage of -'er', as in popular words such as 'balla' and 'holla.' i'll rap you some mothereffing GRAMMA, ho!") ..k where was i? Ah yes. Capitalizing the first word in a sentece, i.e. not being fucking lazy as all hell. But i still can't bring myself to capitalize my 'i's. (how do you type that? spell it out? "eyes"? Remove the seemingly unneessary mini-quotes? "is"? GAAH!) In high school, i had a social studies/history teacher (they're always the best) who, when someone raised their hand to ask to go to the bathroom(as is strictly required in 99% of high school settings) she blew up at him. She told him he was a fucking adult and could go to the bathroom whenever he goddamn well pleased. She told us that she had once QUIT A JOB because her boss wanted her to ask to go to the bathroom.
That woman is my hero.

In other news, the usually-rather-neato site of "I'll tell you what, Mr. Tubby FatPants, you can have my banana"* linked to a guy who went an entire weekend without television. *gasp!* an ENTIRE weekend??! But that MUSTN'T have included the Friday night What Not To Wear Marathon and the Sunday night Fucking Whatever! ....And she, someone so opinionated, picky, and bitchy, who generally fits the bill of "Where the HELL is my anger management book!??!" (Witty Catchphrase Alert!) respects that. You know what I respect? Someone who's not so disgustingly addicted to something that they brag about and write an entire blog post on the revelations of an ENTIRE (ENTIRE!) weekend with no TV. To me, that's like a methhead writing a five paragraph essay about an ENTIRE WEEKEND without meth. And the rest of us are like, "hey, that's really special and nice. it's a little sad that you're so fucking proud of it, because the second you shut your eyes, flail your arms and start screaming "I CAN STOP ANYTIME I WANT" is the second i shut you out of my life for being a failure at yours."
You know who i fucking respect? ME, for not having a TV, and not running around screaming about how Unique and Free and Productive i am.
So again, it makes me re-lose my faith (i've lost count at this point, after how many fucking seasons of american idol?*)*in our society and culture when an "entire weekend" without TV is now to be lauded as if it were, oh i don't now, some sort of accomplishment? As if were DIFFICULT? Something to be even MENTIONED, let alone APPLAUDED? That's. Just. Sad.

*yeah i linked to it a mere...yesterday? ago but it's FUCKING HILARIOUS, SO READ IT)

**that shit doesn't deserve to be capitalized. unless you're using "capitalized" as a new witty way to say "put to death for crimes against humanity via capital punishment"

mmmm, hot dog.

spank you, helpy helperton

some people just shouldn't have kids.
/exist.

case in point: there is one kid at the preschool who is pretty fucked up. like, he's sweet and all, but when you close him from the sandbox because you saw him throw blatantly and randomly sand in a TWO-YEAR OLD'S face, he'll look all SHOCKED and SAD and ANGRY--like "WHAT?! WHY would you CLOSE me from the SANDBOX?!" he never lets other kids play with him, but gets angry/tattle-y, and cryingly upset when they say no to him when he asks. He blatantly destroys other kids' toys and games and calls everyone names, and makes these really fucked-up little angry faces. honestly, i've never seen such an angry little kid. it's like, YOU'RE THREE. what do you POSSIBLY have to be that angry about?? anyway his parents recently asked us (angrily) to stop letting him eat afternoon snack because he wasn't eating dinner (and by dinner, I mean McDonald's/Pizza Hut). it's like, your kid is too full from organic fruits and vegetables to eat his greasy trans-fat cancer burger, and...apparently that's a BAD thing.
wow.

i was pretty scared to start seriously looking for a car after the ol' corolla* died but it's kinda sweet to watch car dealers tripping over themselves to sell me a car. like, i'm a lil' old twenty-year old girl with a thousand dollars in the bank (WOO) and they're calling me at home making offers and bringing cars in from Denver to show me because i mentioned i wanted an automatic, not a manual.

*we were talking about whether or not I care how a car looks, and steve said "well, you liked the corolla, and it looked like a meatball!"

also on the car note, one thing i am loving*** about buying a new car is the research. i am a total Nurd and i effing love researching. i make a haircut appointment? hours prior are spent finding a medley of potential haircuts online. my hairstylist has gotten used to my control freak-ism and the fact that i insist on bringing in 1-3 color photos and having a ten-minute long discussion on how i exactly i would want them to mesh into one amazing 'cut, which doesn't exist in Internet Picture Land, and which also must look perfect with no effort or styling beyond shampoo and a quick brush.
anyway, i love researching. i had a friend once who, when we were debating What Would Happen If Something Else Happened or something, he said "you should look it up. you're good at stuff like that." well...it's not so much that i'm "good" at it per se as much as the fact that i DO look it up, and no one else bothers. seriously. if you casually mention in conversation with me that you've been wondering such and such, next time i see you, be it tomorrow or three years from now, i will have researched, explored possibilites, made citations, and will have a discussion with you on the merits of the various theories and the validity of the experiments. and you will stare back at me blankly because you have no effing idea what i am freaking talking about.

*yeah just WATCH me use a stative verb in the present progressive!!!

okay, this post was the funniest shit i've read in a long time. free, indeed.

good, random, awesomely out-of-context quote from my roommate: "I don't care about the vagina!"
not that it really made sense in the context anyway.

besides teaching spanish at preschool, my other job is "tagging" verbs. meaning i look at sets of verbs ("action words!") in context of newspapers, usually, and tell the computer what the verb means in that situation (e.g. "run a business" vs. "run a race" vs. "run the numbers" etc.)
anyway sometimes it gets pretty philosophical--yesterday i found myself realizing i was being paid $11 an hour to think about whether or not you "have" or "experience" life.


YOU WOULD NOT BELEIVE ME IF I TOLD YOU
but the Star Wars theme is playing in the background while the three guys just finished LANing hours of video games are now playing Magic and drinking tea.
and i am reaaaaaaaaally happy it's not beer pong.


SPEAKING OF NERDS

um, go eat your own face. like like.

what is it about McGuckin's that makes me want to BUY SHIT? humidifier? NEED IT. nine colors of duct tape? REQUIRED. tiny glass vials? MUST HAVE THEM.

a girl in my Spanish phonetics class asked me today if I was Russian. it was probably the coolest compliment i have gotten recently. Kinda weird though, because how many Russians have blond hair and blue eyes? and i don't exactly have a Russian accent, let alone speak more than, oh, six words of the language? But it was cool because we started talking about how Russian is all craaaazy. P=R? WTF. H=N? LIIIIES!!!!

isn't it weird when you walk into class one day halfway through the semester, or even at the FINAL, and you see someone you swear you have NEVER SEEN BEFORE IN THAT CLASS. always freaks me out. where am i???! and who the fuck are YOU?? how are you so nondescript that i stared at the back of your head for three months and still did not realize you exist?

i'm gonna buy some arm socks. oh my god--so here is this story. i bought some black knit leg warmers back in the day in high school and wore them on my arms because i only owned tank tops, no long-sleeved shirts or anything, and would always get all frickin' cold in the winter. my then-boyfriend (and most people) would make fun of me, and lance called them my "arm socks". I wanted to get some recently, and so googled them, and apparently it's a huge thing now. it's all quirky-trendy. which kinda pisses me off. but if i ever see lance again ima be like "arm socks are IN! so HA!"

oh and happiness: when i was in Otavalo, Ecuador, i bought a beautiful beautiful ring made from the type of shell that used to be used as money in South America. I lost it, however, just weeks after I got back to Boulder, and it always made me sad. but THEN, a few weeks ago when steve and i were going through and cleaning out my car (which sadly got totaled when a 16-year old kid with a 1-week old driver's license ran a red light and smashed into my poor corola), we FOUND it. i guess steve did, in this random little box in the car where i must've put it before martial arts one day and simply forgot. he handed it to me and i almost screamed in happiness. he told me later that five seconds after he gave it to me he thought of keeping it and proposing to me with it, which pretty much would have been fucking adorable.

god i totally broke down the other day. the impetus: i was walking to the bus stop from Espresso Roma on the Hill, and my friend Jenette was telling me some story about her roommates, and as we pass the Boulder Bookstore (where they removed the benches because of all the homeless guys that would sit there and stare creepily at the college chicks who walked past all day), this homeless dude sitting on the ground yells out "UM! LIKE! UM LIKE LIKE!" i was fucking pissed. i wish i had thought then of one of the many witty things i came up with later, but i really don't have quick reaction times to stuff like that. he wasn't even attacking ME, but i was offended by the fact that this guy whose life can be summed up with "spare any change?" is judging me. um, really? maybe you're right. maybe i should drop out of college, not get two degrees, not do linguistics research, quit my jobs, not pay my rent, not get a car, and sit on the corner begging for change and hassling college kids. but at least i wouldn't say 'like'! that would be worth it, don't you think? yes. you sir, are a role model.
then when i got home and told my boyfriend, his response was: "well you can see his point."
....
and "he's from a different generation."

hey, guess what! I'M from a different fucking generation. fun fact: language changes. additionally, i am actually fucking engaged in research with a PhD student and a linguistics professor about the quotative uses of 'like.' in short: "dear sir. eat shit and die."
another thing is that i have thought for HOURS about my speech and eloquence (or lack thereof, depending on who you are). I have never before in my LIFE received feedback that I sound unintelligent or uneducated when i speak or write. i have contintously made conscious, deliberate decisions to talk the way i do because i don't fucking put on a nice pretty little mask for the rest of the world. i write the way i talk and i talk the way i fucking feel like talking. i feel it's fake to talk differently in a class presentation than i do with my friends. and ALL the responses i've gotten have said "i like the way you talk/write. it's real. it's interesting." it allows me to engage my audience and connect with them because i don't sound as euriditic and snoooty as i would if i used prescriptivist grammar (which, as a linguist, i can tell you is WRONG) and sesquidipipilian words. (holy shit, i spelled that right first try.) also, i AM a fucking LINGUIST. i study language use, language change, uses of filler words, dialects and everything you can think of having to fucking do with the english language. but no, you're right, the homeless guy on the street could probably fill me in about that stuff. he is obviously superior to me and my ums. he could probably identify Turkish morphemes and Spanish allophones. he could probably speak Spanish, Chinese and Russian and get 2 degrees and work 2 jobs. but me? me and my ums, man.



that will be all.

peanut buttah jelly tiiiiime!

Made my day:
Yesterday, Halloween night, on Pearl Street after a delicious dinner at Pasta Jay's, we were driving home with six people in the car (ah, flashbacks to high school) and saw someone dressed as a giant banana. My sister, being amazing, rolled down the window as we passed and sang out "PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIIIME!" and the banana-person, apparently thrilled someone finally understood their costume, started shaking their maracas and dancing. i laughed so goddamn hard. and i loved seeing the ecstatic look on their face.

Speaking of Halloween and my previously-declared Burning Firey Passionate Hatred of sarah palin, i dressed as her. My favorite parts were the devil horns and my beauty pagant sash, on which were palin's two qualifications for the vice presidency:
"Miss Alaska 1984"
and on the back:
"I can see Russia from my house!"























living in boulder, i got a lot of compliments. although i was horribly depressed at the fact that no one dresses up for school anymore. remember when you weren't Too Cool? those were the days. for this reason, i was FUCKING PSYCHED to head to work and see all my favorite little 4-year olds dressed up in their adorable costumes. my hopes and dreams were crushed when i walked in the door and saw everyone in effing normal clothes. seriously, i was fucking sad not to see my favorite little dude, Wyatt, dressed as a firefighter (he practically worships people with jobs)*. i saw maybe half a dozen other people out of the 30,000 at CU in costume. however, my faith in humanity was revived when we were walking down pearl and saw the person in the afore-mentioned banana-maraca costume, an old dude as Indiana Jones, a Hermione, and a couple other fun ones.


*after working full-time at the preschool for most of the summer, everyone was confused when i showed up at 2 PM one day because the fall semester started. when they asked me where i was all day and i told them i had been at school, i ended up staring at like nine very very confused faces. Lauren finally piped up: "THIS is your school."

attention spam

so you know how you can comment on your friends' facebook statuses now? someone had their status as "So-and-So is not too happy about the avs right now"*

*my level of interest in sports is summed up in the above t-shirt**

**i'm super happy i bought this a few years ago at tshirthell.com because they no longer carry it! noobs.

anyway someone responded to So-and So being "not so happy about the avs" with "no one is my friend" which made me giggle. commas DO matter, bitches! "no one is, my friend" would mean "no one is happy about the avs, my friend" whereas "no one is my friend" means that that comma-deprived loser has no friends. or commas.

also on facebook (aka attention spam GOD i'm so witty) was this ad/pretend survey: "Have You Voted Yet? Yes/No/I Don't Know."
whoa. hey.
stop.
that's an OPTION?
whoa. hey.
no.
if you don't KNOW whether or not you've voted, you should not be voting. even for obama, who i'd love to have more votes, just not....your vote. you understand, right? it's not me, it's you. fucking keep track of stuff such as your fucking vote. just stay at home and try to make friends and learn about commas.

Speaking of voting, i'm totally going to the early voting at the CU rec center. It's every day from 8AM-6PM til Halloween. rock on.

okay. i'm not sure if my chinese teacher is sadistic or just insane. she's really cool and i love her, but she made a bunch of us come to the front of the class individually to be asked questions in chinese we've been practicing. so one by one we go up there and stand awkwardly while people ask us in chinese about our major, our ideal apartment, etc. fascinating. anyway i was about the sixth person to go up, and everyone got SILENT when i got up there. silent like whoa. so after a few awkward, silent seconds, i said "Ni hao!" (hello) which made people laugh. awkwardly. more silence. i waited. (this prolonged silence happened for no one else, might i add.) finally this guy in the back mutters (in Chinese) "what's your phone number?" jokingly and though it was quiet, everyone else was SILENT and heard it. i kinda rolled my eyes and waited for a serious question when Chen Laoshi says to me "Are you going to answer him??? Are you going to give him your number???!" Okay, seriously?? it's not bad enough already? so i had to say, in chinese, "i have a boyfriend" and everyone laughed hysterically at the guy and said "oh shut DOWN!" and other guys in the class called out other creepy questions, such as where do i live. thank god the middle-aged grad student who is also a ling major saved me by asking where if i'm going to travel when i graduate. yes, yes i am. far, far away from Creepies.

people are so weird. well that's what you get. at least i didn't tell you I was sixteen***, don't have a phone or e-mail, or am dating someone you know who you know is not dating me. (all previous rejection lines from me, i know, i'm a horrible person. but what are you gonna DO, you know?)

***it's cool, i atually was sixteen. it was my favorite rejection line, so much so that i was sad when i turned seventeen because the 28-year olds don't balk quite as hard at 17 as they do 16.

"So you wanna go out for a drink sometime?"
"I'm not 21."
"Oh. When will you be?"
"Five years."
"......"

snoods and snees and sneeze

snood: a decorative hairnet

quite the conumdrum

I have been thinking a lot about how to put these two common yet incongruous slang phrases together: "pissed me off" and "the crap/hell outta me"
Because we can say "that really pissed me off" or "that scared the hell outta me" but how could we possibly combine them? "that pissed the hell off outta me." "that pissed the crap outta off me." too many prepositions!! (why are they called prepositions? because they are positioned before. Japanese has postpositions! yay!) Steve's favorite: "that pissed the crap off me."
Anyway it took me like two days of thinking about this and giggling quietly to myself before it came to me: "that pissed me the hell off!"

I have strep throat. whine whine whine. actually it's not so bad now that i have ibuprofen to lessen the swelling in my lymph nodes, which were so swollen that drinking water felt like swallowing shards of glass. trying to sleep last night sucked because i was constantly waking up and thinking "my goodness, this really is quite excruciating" and although i couldn't explain or reason it then or now, all night i kept thinking i had to sleep in a certain way to avoid the pain. but i never could figure out what it was. was it lying on my side? nope that sucks. on my back? nope. anyway i'm enjoying taking some time off school to dick around on the internet and OH MY GOD i got an A on my physics test. I FUCKING RULE!!!!!!!!! and the class average was a D. IN YOUR FACE!!!!! yeah bludgeon. what. now there's some motivation to do shit you hate/suck at. because when i get an A in Spanish, Chinese or linguistics, i'm like "yeah whateva" but physics?? i get a problem right all by myself and i do a screaming victory dance, complete with hip-thrusts and "OH YEAAAAH!!"s. is that where the plural morpheme would go? sure, why the jesus not. ...i crack myself up.

whenever i'm sick i'm totally paranoid that no one will beleive me. that i need to prove it to my friends, my employer, my family, classmates and teachers. no, guys, seriously, i have strep. i'm sick. i list my symptoms expecting people to be cynical, like i'm faking it to get out of stuff or something. it's kinda weird. i'm always surprised when people say "oh no!! drink tea and get lots of sleep!" after all is say is "i'm sick." i'm like, "wait, you don't want to see my penicillin perscription? my swollen glands? my nine trashcans full of snotty kleenexes?*"

*those snotty kleneexes. thinking they're better than everyone else.

okay this picture made me laugh until i cried.


fro hat.
ohhhh man.

more stupider

society, you have trained me. i am incapable of running red lights. or even stop signs. even at 3:17 in the morning on a tuesday when i can see nine miles in each direction and haven't seen a car or human the entire drive. i fucking sit there. and wait. and i WANT to run the red light, and i KNOW there's no cops or possible potential crash danger, but the light is RED. red means NO. red means STOP and sit there and feel like a brainwashed lemming.

and what is it about facebook that makes me feel like i have no life? my social life consists of a) climbing, or b) sitting around with 1-3 friends and having deep philosophical discussions and/or goofing off for a few hours. but i feel, thanks to facebook, that everyone else's social life consists of wild parties of dozens of people every weekend and lots of drinking and dancing and happy smiling pictures and here i am on a saturday night studying physics (EW.) and blogging.
oh, society. making me feel bad about my life because i don't take pictures of myself drunk and making out with other girls at parties for attention.




oh, and another thing, society? what's up with the fucked up american view on getting vs. being married?
-getting married=aww i'm so happy, congruatulations, that's WONDERFUL YAY!
-being married=nagging wife, asshole husband, ball and chain, my life suks.

this is as emo as i get

what is it about physics that makes me want to cry? i can go on and on about bilabial fricatives in spanish or allophonic variations of inflectional morphemes or predicate adjectives in chinese or the reduplicate copula phenomenon in english ("the thing is, is that....") but the second you ask me to find mass per unit length of a string if the string is one octave higher than another string, i just break down into tears. how do i DO this, there's so many formulas how do i know which one, oh that and i don't know basic algebra, and kaley just crumples.
so i got two problems (at least there's only six), one easily within seconds and the other struggling for hours with my boyfriend's help, and i'm going in to my professor's office hours tomorrow just hours before the homework is due to beg for help.
i just feel like nothing we talk about in class, nothing i have notes on, relates in any way to the problems for homework this week. i feel pretty solid about what we went over in lecture, then i saw the problems on the homework and was like 'how is this possibly this week's homework?'
blah blah blah bitch bitch bitch. i am not a science person. or a math person. i got through the lowert possible levels of high-school math (okay, BARELY) with intuition and guesswork and the fact that my teachers thought i was smart but unmovitated and gave me credit for trying.
i just hope i don't walk into my physics test on tuesday and break down in tears looking at the problems.
i kinda think i might.

yeah. no interesting stories or anecdotes. no funny/cool picture. i' m just frustrated.

at least physics makes my chinese homework look pshhh eaaaaaasy, and cleaning the kitchen seem AWESOME!

are you calling me phat?

the other day my boyfriend's brother's friend was talking about sleeping in his car and when i asked him why he WAS sleeping in his car, he kinda paused and said "i was not fit to drive" which i thought was a pretty funny euphemism for "totally trashed" and then i thought of this: you know how you always hear (at least i do, at CU) college kids* going "oh man, we got so HAMMERED this weekend!" or "before the game we're gonna get WAAAASTED!" and i want to make this happen:

"duuude, we are gonna get so NOT FIT TO DRIVE on friday!!!!" and "that party was AWESOME!!! i had like nine jagerbombs and was sooooooo not fit to drive!"

again, let's make it happen people.

*when introduced to someone who worked at the same restaurant as one of my friends, i said "ohhh you're one of the Boulder Cafe kids!" he got reaaaally insulted. apparently 20-somethings who are insecure about their age are quite sensitive and also, totally lame.

oh, also, the funniest shit i've ever heard: after listening to an audio recording for chinese class that was preceded by a very British accent announcing the authors and copyright, the kid next to me says "Ni hao" ("hello" in Mandarin Chinese) in a British accent.
k maybe you had to be there.





-Kaley deserves to have ice cream smashed in and around her eyes because she is a lying fifty-year old man.

slutty pajamas

ouch. my dog just punched me in the face with her face. it was my fault, actually, i was leaning in to smoosh her with my face like i do to show affection (tiny dogs=want to smush=how kaley shows affection) and anyway she lifted her head at just the wrong second and now my nose is throbbing. speaking of which, my boyfriend, his brother and i somehow ended up you-tubing* Things....But Very Slowly and watching slow-mo versions of...well...everything. how is this related? this guy gets punched in the face and it's pretty hilarious slo-mo.

*love verbification

i really should be a) studying physics, b) studying chinese c) working my part-time job from home or d) cleaning (we MOVED this weekend!!!!! yay!!!!) but i am, obviously, not. you're welcome.

OH. EM. GEE. my best friend, who is creepily like me in so many ways except for the fact that she voluntarily decided to live with five other girls, told me this Shockingly True story: apparently the wannabe-sorority girls she lives with have been talking about halloween costumes for a while, with no ideas deviating from the theme of Innocent Things Slutted Up, and after rejecting nineteen different Slutted-up Disney princesses, they started talking about dressing up as Snow White's seven dwarves.
but Slutted up.
so i'm picturing: beards and mini-skirts?
apparently they had in mind that Doc would be a Slutty Nurse (at which point they are not Doc, they are a disgusting sorority slut), et cetera. when my poor friend asked what the oh-so-innocent Sleepy would be, her roommates said excitedly "Sleazy!"
Okay, really, at that point you are not anything to with Disney movies, happy childhood memories, or even perverted drunken lingere'd versions of happy childhood memories, you are just wrong. just...no. and seriously, how could Sleepy even BE Sleazy? how do you have slutty pajamas? i sleep naked, is that slutty pajamas?

things like that make me lose all faith in humanity.

that and this amazing story: i was walking to my favorite coffee shop (Espresso Roma: tiny and eclectic and crowded and filled with music and random pictures and the smell of coffee) from CU when i heard two girls behind me having the following conversation:
Girl 1: So when we were in Rome I didn't gain weight, but in London I like gained a lot of weight because i was eating the same and not walking as much
Girl 2: Yeah totally, like here we're walking a lot and we're always late so we're walking all fast and sweating our balls off
Girl 1: Yeah totally.


SWEATING. OUR BALLS OFF.

this is no time for ovulating!

i think last night i had a dream i woke up. either that or i actually woke up. but i think i dreamed i woke up early, before my alarm, because i remember thinking*, 'i am awake? before my alarm? i just...woke up? and i'm not tired?' but apparently i was tired because i went back to sleep and/or kept sleeping. (if you're wondering about that 'and,' congratulations. if you aren't, well, you are now.)

*isn't it kind of weird how the phrase "i remember thinking" is practically irrefutable proof? you might not remember exactly how or even if something happened, but if you remember thinking something about that event....man, there's no stopping naysayers** then!

**oh, naysers. hush, you.

my friends and i were eating ice cream and being silly (two of my favorite activities, i might add) and we decided there needed to be more words like "SNAP!" and "BUUURN!" for, well, snaps and burns. after throwing out "ignite!," "stab!" and "shank!" we finally had a clear winner when i burst out "bludgeon!" and after a stunned silence, there was hysterical laughter. (that's the best kind.) the plot thickens: you know how some people say stuff like "get the neosporin, 'cause you got buuuurned!" we decided on "get the tourniqet, because you just got BLUDGEONED!"

so let's get that going, shall we?

jolly good, then!

and now, a tiny kitten.

what's so hard about laundry? WHY do people loathe it so?
seriously.
it's the easiest possible cleaning/chore/task you could possibly do.
if i could clean the house by picking up a pile of stuff, pressing a button, and then surfing the web for an hour before i move the pile six inches and press another button, you bet your ass i'd clean the house more often.
but alas, there is no button.


a place i never want to go: antartica.
fuck that.
it's COLD. it's WHITE. it's freezing, it is flat, it is icy, it is a snowy desert of doomy cold death boring doomness. doomy doomitude. i don't get the appeal. to feel like a badass? i'd rather take chinese. that's way more badass than wearing nineteen parkas and seven pairs of wool socks and being surrounded by white like a crazy person...because if you go to antartica, you are insane. your straightjacket is your nine layers of clothing just to stay alive while you sit there, bored and cold and insane.

speaking of insane, my laugh is. ever become suddenly highly aware of the way you laugh? it's always terrifying. you never think, what a pleasant, lovely, tinkling chuckle. for me at least, it's more like a honksnort death cry of a mongoose on the warpath.


i love techno. one song that i would have put on my "happyhyper" playlist in high school is Do Your Thing by Basement Jaxx. my boyfriend can't stand it, but here's the catch: it's on random in our music and he plays video games (meaning: constantly distracted) and i like to see how long it takes him to realize the song is playing before he skips it. i guess i won a few days ago when it played all the way through. must have been an intense game! silent (wait, or loud techno?) victory! ....time for a new game.

oh, and wtf? i was wearing this ankle/floor-length loose flowy black skirt that makes me feel so goth i have to wear my pink lacy tank top to balance myself out and i got all kinds of weird-ass, creepy hoots and honks and oh i shudder just to think about it. but seriously. it's not like i was wearing tiny little shorts or a short tight skirt or a shirt that makes my boobs explode out of it like those french fries on the drive-through menu (<3 dane cook). men, you are all insane. case closed.

and i thought i didn't like vanilla!

Hilarity:
I was looking up the etymology for 'nil' earlier today (from Latin nihil, 'nothing' -- same root as nihilist) when I found the most interesting and ironic etymology i have ever seen:

vanilla

1662, from Sp. vainilla "vanilla plant," lit. "little pod," dim. of vaina "sheath," from L. vagina "sheath" (see vagina).

Speaking of vaginas....*


Shocked disbelief:
I hate, loathe and despise Sarah Palin with a burning firey passion. I have joined five Facebook groups about what a gosh-darned cunt she is (Sarah Palin is Dolores Umbridge; I Have More Foreign Policy Experience Than Sarah Palin....) and on one I found this article, which says that Palin is SUING the Interior Secretary for listing the polar bear as a threatened species. Because that would "cripple offshore oil and gas development in the Chukchi and Beaufort seas in Alaska's northern waters, which provide prime habitat for the only polar bears under U.S. jurisdiction."

*how often do you get to say "speaking of vaginas"?? that was fun.


Neat/Interesting:
This guy is doing what he calls the 100 Thing Experiment, where he will go a year owning only one hundered items (1 pen, 1 pencil, 1 watch....)



In other news...
what is it about time that makes me want to waste it? i really push myself to study chinese on the bus to and from school, (ah this reminds me of the Onion's Area Eccentric Reads Entire Book) but once i get home i lapse into facebook/e-mail/craigslist/webwandering and general internet time-wastage. and then i feel guilty because a) i havent studied enough and i have to go to bed soon and b) we only have such a short amount of time on this planet and i sit in front of my laptop all day, but moslty c) that i am aware of both of the above and STILL waste time like a....well, a person. I think i need to limit my computer on-ness time. the first thing i do when i get home from school and work is turn the ol' lappy on, and then....before you know it, it's past bedtime and i am browsing zappos.com (OMG SHOES) for the third time and wandering craigslist for teaching wages (mine is actually really good.)

Also, I cannot bring myself to hurry in the mornings. i have proven time and time again that if i am charge of getting myself somewhere on time, i WILL be late. not maybe. not sometimes. i just WILL be. "wake up earlier," you say? interesting. everytime i do that, if i don't end up hitting the snooze button ninety times and i actually DO get up, i will simply take about three times as long to do everything. i will eat a sit-down breakfast as opposed to gnawing on toast as i haul ass to the bus stop, i will spend half an hour picking out an outfit as opposed to throwing on the pre-determined one already set out, i will put on some music and dance around a bit...and i will end up being waaay more late than if i had woken up later. so...it's good that i have to catch the bus in the mornings, because if i drive myself, i'll be-- you guessed it!!!-- late as hell.


on ANOTHER note, i have about a tenth of a haagen-dazs smoothie left in the plastic cup from a few days ago that i have thawed out and am pitifully attempting to suck through the straw (note: failed. i am currently settling for vacuuming up the melty outskirts of the chocolate glob which froze and thawed into some ungodly totally weird texture that is immune to straw-suction) and coax the deliciously tempting, one last scoop from the bottom (still failing.) the ANGST. ohhh miiilkshake, please come to meeeeeeee!

oh i almost forgot a picture. here you go. my current screensaver.


update: my milkshake blob continues to mock me. the flimsy plasic straw is too weak to remove its deathgrip on the bottom of the cup, and i am far too lazy to go upstairs to get a spoon. also, i tend to gnaw* the hell out of anything that comes near my mouth (see: gum addiction) and so the straw is no longer even getting the happy little melty bits around the circumference of the blob.

*second occurence of 'gnaw' in one post. that's officially more usages of 'gnaw' in several paragraphs than in the rest of my blog.

good times.

L: "Aren't these just the cutest little jelly jars?"
R: "I've seen cuter."


"You know, I've been wanting to buy a ceramic pumpkin, but I think I'll shop around."
-R


"Death Marshmallows!"
-R


Some girl on campus, talking to another girl: "You have to put the pictures on Facebook, otherwise it's like it never happened."


"Health is red, mana is blue, doodeedoo, i love you."
-nerdy boyfriend : )


"I'm crotchety, in more ways than one."
-Buck 65


"America is so accepting. I hate it."
-Nathan


" 'Redic' embodies all that is wrong in this world. That and animals wearing clothes."
"My dog wears clothes!"
".....I hate you."
"Well it's not my dog, it's my mom's dog..."
"Seriously. I hate you."


"Oh shit, the cops!!!!!"
-the cops in Superbad


drunk horny girl: "i'm so wet..."
awkward highschool guy: "yeah, i know, in health they said that would happen...."
-Superbad

uhmurikuh teh bewtifull

I officially watch too much What Not To Wear. About twenty percent of the people I see on a daily basis receive this outfit conclusion: "UNACCEPTABLE." An example? Here is the CU frat girl uniform: flip-flops, sweatpants with either the CU logo or "juicy" on the ass (from the Onion: Pants Attempt to Convey What Owner Can't), and those big-ass sunglasses that go from your hairline to nostrils. Heads-up, ladies: those make you look like bugs. and not sexy bugs, either. just bugs.
I also have a huge problem with girls wearing leggings as pants. Yesterday it was a bit chilly and I wore a pair UNDERNEATH my jeans to keep me warm. and yet some girls wear them as though anything that is normal to wear underneath pants is an option for wearing without pants.

Everytime I pass Arby's, this quote from Bart on the Simpson's runs through my head: "I"m so hungry I could eat at Arby's!"

I also passed a house the other day that had a dumpster in the yard with a sign that said "Dumpster for hire or rent." Now, rent I understand, but can you really HIRE a dumpster? "I hired this dumpster, but for some reason all it does it sit there! lazy son of a bitch. I'm definitely cutting his benefits."

Speak English!!

you know how whenever you're talking to someone speaking in jargon (sciencespeak, big fancy sesquipedalian words etc) you're like "Speak English!!" ? (weird punctuation placement, i know. but it makes sense. trust me.) Anyway one of my favorite things to do that never fails to make me giggle is picture such a scene in China/Africa/Vietnam/Iran, where someone is blabbering away in jargon and the other person is staring at them bewildered and says "Speak Chinese!"


/ "Speak Swahili!" /"Speak Vietnamese!" / "Speak Farsi!"


because it's fun to imagine that.


....hehehe.

and you roll of my tongue like Spanish
in my mouth you taste delicious then you leave me famished
scantily mad
daintily had
forever needing not conceding
never feeding can’t and bleeding
in my mind’s mind I spent the time
to decorate recreate the walls
with a paintbrush of steel
I convinced myself
blood is beautiful




leaving behind the swirling screaming
sadness madness of my old young mind
smile softly into the shimmering
let go of the need to rewind
if smiling is a flower
and she was trapped in autumn
her morning has come
dew drops tear drops fall
and her rose lips open up to the sun

god loves glitter!

I am so very over the Disney-fetish that some grown women seem to have. It is sick, and it is wrong. I enjoy a Disney movie as much as the next person (okay, probably more), and I can't begin to count the number of times i've seen Beauty and the Beast, but when a 20+ women's favorite store is the Disney store, when all of your jackets/purses/socks/accessories are covered with glittery fairies, and when going to Disneyland is the Ideal Vacation, you Must Be Stopped. I want to call a nationwide intervention for these people. It makes me want to puke.

If, anytime during my life previous to my college years, I saw myself as I look now, I would probably faint.
High School: Manpants. (tight pants=doomydoomydoom). Short, short, spiky, purple/blue hair. Ratty, old sneakers with mismatched, upside-down shoelaces. Boys' hoodie with a mini-noose tied on one of the strings. NO MAKEUP. Mostly black. NO PINK.

College: Girl pants (tight and everything!). Stylish haircut. Natural hair color. Long hair. Pink, lacy shirts. Fashionable flats. Cute jackets. Dangly earrings. Mascara. Foundation. Manicure. Pedicure.

Yeah, I'd have freaked out.



anyway, now that I have resigned myself to the fact that i am a Girl, i was doing a search for makeup cases (high-school Kaley would vomit) and found this:
"Cosmetic Bag, With God Everything Is Possible."
.....
That is actually the name of the bag. On some Christian site---they were serious. I had to check, but then i remembered that god never leaves home without his jesus-brand makeup purse! No, wait! It gets better! With God, purple paisley makeup bags are possible (god hates it when you leave the house without mascara on), but ALSO,
"Cosmetic Bag, I Thank God." god, i thank you for the polka dots covering my beauty supplies. you can rest assured your work is done here. i thank you, god, for your heavenly guidance et cetera et cetera, but mostly for letting me pay ten bucks for cloth in which to put my lipstick.
And! For those in need of a delusional reality check:
"Cosmetic Bag, God Is In Control." Don't even bother trying to curl those straight lashes, cover up those disgusting pimples, or generally attempt to look moderately appealing. god made you ugly because god hates sex. god is in control; why are you buying makeup anyway?
(I'd link you but that would be against my lack of religion.)


anyway, here is the most interesting bag i found (note the spiked collar)

since my last post was about how wonderful and fabulous the internet is and sent you all off to explore, i thought i'd at least post some warnings about the not-so-fabulous parts...
(click to enlarge*)
(*that's what she said?)

i am sick, don't feel so hot. i get suuuuper out-of-it when i'm sick. on wednesday, i left work early because i felt like crap and went to whole foods with my boyfriend to pick up soup 'n stuff, and even though it's august, it was freeezing out that evening when we went, raining and windy and just chilly. and of course whole foods is airconditioned like a mofo, so i was walking around in a tank top and shorts and shivering. the first thing i picked up was some of that hot, ready-made soup that whole foods make. about ten minutes later, nearing the end of our shopping trip, my boyfriend looks at me and says "why don't you put your hands around your soup to keep them warm?" and i stared, flabbergasted, because i was SO out-of-it that i had been walking around the entire store, shivering and freezing, holding my hot soup carefully such that i DID NOT touch it, because it was HOT.
yeah.
whoa.

goog

i less than three teh interweb

i spend a lot of time on the internet.
a LOT of time.
so i started wondering what i was actually doing when i wandered into the abyss, and decided to share my favorite activities/sites/articles.


Productivity*/Self-Improvement Sites

*i think it'd be fun to calculate the amount of time i've spent reading productivity articles vs. Actually Doing Stuff.

Zen Habits: This 4:30 AM-rising, vegan guy writes articles such as "8 Great Anti-Hacks to Fundamentally Change Your Life" where he suggests you "Embrace Your Inner Dilettante, be Flaky, and Denounce the Cult of Permanence" and "Pursue Self-Development Over Productivity." Pretty neat. He also has articles on frugal living, becoming an early riser, exercise, motivation, and compassion.


Steve Pavlina: Another motivated, spiritual, early-rising entrepreneur who inspired me to start polyphasic sleeping (a method of taking 20-minute naps six times a day instead of a solid 8-hour chunk). His articles include 10 Reasons You Should Never Get a Job and 10 Reasons You Should Never Have a Religion.


LifeHack: Awesome articles like How to Ask for (and Get) a Raise and How to Take Criticism like Donald Trump.



Helping Others

two sites i visit daily are the Hunger Site, where you just click on a button to donate rice and fight hunger, breast cancer, rainforest deforestation, and support child healthcare, literacy, and give food to animals in shelters.
i also visit Free Rice, where you expand your vocabulary by donating rice to the hungry.


Random Things

as flashmobs have gained popularity as of late, one of my favorite websites in the universe has got to be ImprovEverywhere, a group in New York dedicated to creating randomness. this site makes me happy.

a hilarious and wonderful blog that i have been reading loyally since high school, i give you...
MimiSmartypants.

as a linguist, i enjoy this list of 13 Words Not Found in English

as an elitist who shamelessly informs myspace fans of the sad, sad fact that myspace is for stalkers and 13-year olds, i enjoyed this article on how facebook users are not sucked into advertising on the site
(note: the article calls facebook the "worst performing site" for advertisers, but i happen
to be proud that my community is horrible for advertisers. fuck off, ads!)

i have ALWAYS wanted to see all of the opening couch scenes in the Simpsons

Like Pandora for the Internet, StumbleUpon is an application you add to your browser to wander the internet (you pick the categories you want to Stumble among). LOVE it.

StumbleUpon is where i find literally all of the random images i post with every post. like this one.

Video Games: 1. Reality: 0

true story: i was sitting at my desk as usual, surfing the internet (some possible sites browsed: my favorite blog ever, postsecret, etc.) as my boyfriend and his brother were talking about how they were bored of all the half-dozen video games they play regularly and what they should do. Conversation commenced as follows:
Brother: What do people do who don't play video games?
Boyfriend: Yeah, Kaley, you don't play video games, what do you do?
Me: Well, right now i'm reading about broccoli...

Video Games: 1. Reality: 0


in case you haven't been feeling snooty enough lately, have some fun with this:

sesquipedalian \ses-kwuh-puh-DAYL-yuhn\, adjective:

1. Given to or characterized by the use of long words.
2. Long and ponderous; having many syllables.
3. A long word.

in case you want more conversations like this:
1: The word i'm about to say is sesquipedalian.
2: what's that?
1: sesquipedalian? it's a long word.
2: yeah. i realized that. what's it mean?
1: sesquipedalian is a long word.
2: please go die.






Pandora: why didn't someone come up with this sooner? type in a band or song you like, and hear more like it. FUCK YEAH. through this i found my new favorite song EVER: Fern by Zoe Keating. it's cello electronica kinda? basically i liked it so much that i told my boyfriend "I found an artist that is so good they make me want to DRIVE, to a STORE, to pay, with MONEY, to PURCHASE, a PHYSICAL COPY."
in this age of itunes, that is a true compliment.
speaking of CDs, i was browsing through craigslist for a decent, lightweight desk with drawers and shelves (is that too much to ask?!) and saw approximately nine million desks with those CD separators and a lower shelf designed specifically for the desktop computer's rectangular brain. it's just funny to think that when those were designed like ten, twenty years ago, you know all the people who came up with those additions were like 'FUCK YEAH WE'RE EFFING GENIUSES' only to have their idea become antiquated within a decade with the advent of mp3s and the ubiquity of laptops. suckers.

i used to be pretty interesting. and by interesting, i mean insane.

so back in my angsty crazy high-school days, i journaled every day. i felt that if i didn't, my head would explode with a cacophony**, a melange* of unexpressed vituperation*. anyhoo, so i used to be pretty interesting and have some stream-of-consciousness narratives and some poetry. so my best friend and i were talking about getting into writing poetry again, and since i haven't really written much in the last 2 years, i went back to baaaaaaack in the day where i wrote a fuckton of schtuff. so here it is.


*i get word-a-day e-mails from dictionary.com, because i am a nerd.

**this word i didn't learn from word-a-day, because i am a freaking Nerd.



-------


mindspew heyou. nothing is beautiful but inexpicable unexplainable unwordable incomprehensible something is beautiful anymore. mindorgasm--more the mental, emotional, comfort, safety. engulf me completely. how can you activate, jolt, electrocute, scream, always with the screaming and the beauty, my obsessions as of always. how can you jolt when you sit here mindspewing on the internet, that which you don't abhor all the more on the floor with the war. oh god and the bouncing, evermore. one is essential, without it nothing is nothing and that could be anything--don't make that mistake. you can't delete something once you've written it. you can't unthink something once you've thought it. almost too perfect a wrongness to correct. one day, the puddle will unmelt freeze into an ice cube. learn to use the little voice to your advantage. meaning in everything? subconscious, maybe you can't find it. maybe you don't want to. maybe not interesting anymore. maybe maybe. FUCK i reek of me.
you have a place.
the point is that if you question it, it loses meaning.


-----


i want to smash precious things
i'm letting go of all the wrong things


-----


lose sight of the ground
lose sight of the sound
scales and bubbles and the blood on your lips
blood erased from my fingertips
another nonsense poem
another long way down
in over my head
fast is the stead
release then push to go so far
watch and learn
blinded churn
make it work, that living thing
you're alive, so live
don't forget to forgive
again my knuckles are bruised but not
from beating myself up
half jump half fall
i'd give up everything to have it all




(the sweet picture is from here)

if i were a guy, i'd have a huge cock.

just saying.
it came up a few weeks ago when i was joking around with my boyfriend ("YOUR FACE" style) and then he said: "Oh yeah? Well if you were a guy you'd have a tiny cock."
............
And now i understand why this smallness-thing is a biiiiig insult to guys.
I got angry.
I got defensive.
I started telling him all the reasons that if i HAD a penis, it would be GINORMOUS. (that word is in the dictionary now, fuck you spell check!)
so, just to clear everything up:

If i were a guy, i'd have a huge cock.

That is all.

does this necklace make my butt look big?

GOD i'm such a slacky mcslacker face. sorry i haven't been writing. I KNOW YOU ARE DEEPLY OFFENDED. in my slackitude, i've been working 9-5 for the first time in my life. i know, i'm lazy, and fat.

oh! that's something that totally freaking boggles my mind: the Fat Thing. (it's what my friends call me.) ((just kidding. but that's going to help prove my point.)) In one of my intro linguistics classes, we had an assignment to write down slang that we used only with our group of friends. one of mine, among climbing and video game lingo (i hate video games but all my high school friends were gamers), was the appellation "fatty." we use it as a joking compliment, a favorite in ironic situations such as climbing or eating. my friends and i call each other fat in jest because 1) they are all skinny, ripped males and it's hilarious, and 2) I am a skinny, ripped girl and it's hilarious. NOTE TO AMERICA: I DO NOT THINK I AM FAT. Apparently, this makes me a freak. I was at a doctor's appointment once, and a male nurse was taking my blood pressure and stuff, and instead of telling me to take my shoes off and get on the scale, he got really uncomfortable and said "uh, sorry, i--if you don't mind--i'm sorry, but how much do you weigh?" and all the other nurses i've ever had ALWAYS 'joke' about the "worst part" being getting on the scale. Do all hospital workers have some sort of Fat Vision where they assume that every female, even the obviously trim ones, are Horribly Insecure about their weight? it bugs the HELL out of me. i weigh 115 pounds, is there a REASON i should be INSECURE about that? oh wait---one girl in high school called me anorexic. a girl who had obviously never seen me eat 2 pints of ice cream in one day.

AND! this is crazy! on my first week at the preschool when the horrible horrible sub was there, i was joking about one of my favorite kids about how he was too biiiiiig and faaaaat for me to pick him up. he was giggling and saying "YOU'RE fat!" and i'd poke him and say "look at this belly! you must weigh at LEAST nine million pounds! there's no WAY i can pick you up!" and he'd laugh hysterically. and the stupid, stupid sub girl looks over, with a serious look on her face, and says "NO one here is fat." like we were being mean or something. look, lady, you might be a Normal Insecure Chick, but if there are two people on the planet who you can call fat to make them laugh, they are a four-year-old boy, and Kaley.

AND, for the first time in my life I've been able to sleep within minutes of going to bed. this is, i need to emphasize, Freaking Amazing. even in South America when I was traveling and backpacking and taking classes and speaking spanish all the time et cetera, it still took me like nine hours to fall asleep. It's so bad that a) I am/was? convinced i have Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, and b) literally remember two (2) times in my entire existence where i fell asleep within minutes.

ALSO, for the first time in my life, last night when I went to bed at 11 and couldn't sleep til 2 and had to wake up at 6, I wandered out to say hi to my boyfriend, sat on his lap, and stared at his screen. normally this is an ideal time to space the fuck out, as my eyes instantly glaze over when i look at video games--try as i might, i was never able to focus my eyes to make sense of the frantic movements and explosions on the screen. i literally couldn't see it. until last night. EPIC. oh wait---i totally don't care.


Acronyms. What's the difference between WTF and "what the fuck"? 'wtf, in all its nerdiness, just sounds nicer. it's inherently kinda funny and silly because you're verbalizing a typed acronym associated with video games and nerds. so when my bee eff just said "wtf kaley, you're still awake?" (it's 7:45 and i'd fallen asleep within minutes of sitting on the couch after Doing Stuff all day) and i was thinking how different it'd be if he said "what the fuck."
Same thing with GTFO, or "get the fuck out." If i were to say "get the fuck out" to anyone under any circumstance minus obvious joking with close friends, i'd be a Bitch. but again, the boyfriend says it in totally non-offensive, even happy ways, such as insisting i go get myself ice cream and watch the Office.


oh. hey. NOTE TO CREEPY GUYS: I DO NOT NEED STRANGERS TO TELL ME I AM ATTRACTIVE. AND PLEASE STOP STARING.
i hate denver.

back to the topic of my rant:

i'd write [witty title here] if it weren't so freaking cliche.

I started working at my boyfriend's old preschool teacher's school this week and i freaking love it more than i can describe. All the other teachers i've ever talked to (such as other Spanish teachers at my other job) talk about how TIRING and EXHAUSTING it is to teach kids. i don't get it. kids have so much energy, they give ME their energy! i just get all pumped and i love chasing them around being a sea monster and giving them helicopter rides and playing pretend and playing legos....how is that exhausting??? kids are like a triple-shot latte for me, only they make me happy all day, even after i get home.

It's hard though, to be all Adult-y after playing with 5-year olds all day. Like in some ways, you feel more like an adult by being the one to carefully apply sunscreen to tiny faces, being the one to remove bee singers and splinters, being the one to remind them to put toys back, et cetera, but you're also playing kids' games with them all day!! So it's kinda weird to get home and have a Boyfriend. Because i'm still like "play time?"

Guess what happened the first FIVE MINUTES of work today. I set the kids out to play outside, am watching the 3-year olds and then I hear Wyatt say: "I found a bug!" I turn around--"WYATT PUT THAT DOWN THAT'S A--"
*waaaaaaaaaah*
"....bee."

Why kids are awesome:
We spent about half an hour looking in the grass for bugs and shiny peices of ribbon, which was EXTREMELY EXCITING. LOOK A PURPLE ONE! A PINK ONE! A BIG ONE!!!!!!

It works out well for me because i get excited about stuff too. I don't realize this is normal until someone asks me about something i like, which i of course don't just LIKE, but which makes my eyes light up and my voice get louder and my legs to bounce and my mouth to grin. i don't just like stuff, I FUCKING LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE IT. i was hanging out with my friend Val today and she was noticing how i either HATE things or LOVE them. you don't like boulder? GET THE FUCK OUT, I HATE YOU. you like milkshakes? HOLY CRAP ME TOO AREN'T THEY DELICIOUS?? sorry for all the caps lock, i just get excited. and i'm not at all sorry i laugh loudly and frequently, i'm not sorry my voice carries, i'm not sorry i'm passionate and enthusiastic. if you're not like me, i basically think you are dead inside. and if i embarrass you, i'll just do what i did to my sister one time at the mall where i started humming along to the music on the loudspeakers and she hissed at me to stop, and i went "you should just be glad i'm not doing THIS!!!" and proceeded to LEAP and SPIN across the mall and sing loudly as she hid her red, red face.

Good times.

Oh is it picture time?
Here's an albino peackock. NEATO.