Mr. Terwiliger, come quick! Cousin Merle done cemented our smell hound!

If it weren't 8:19 in the morning, I'd be giddy with excitement that today is the Friday before a 4-day weekend. You check back with me at 10:28, and I'll probably be beside myself with anticipation. J has to work this weekend, so we don't have any real special plans for the 4th of July, but I'm still hoping we can have a cookout, see some fireworks, get on a paddleboat somewhere, dump tea in a harbor, something like that. We got some Flavorice popsicles at the store the other day, so I feel like I'm halfway to a rockin' Independence Day celebration already. Man, my entire childhood was a blur of Flavorice popsicles. The best part about a Flavorice: the juice leftover once you've eaten the popsicle. The worst part: cutting off the top. Some people will tell you to just bite off the top, but I'm still a big believer in using scissors. But that's a personal preference. I don't judge.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday weekend! May your eyebrows not be singed by fireworks!

"Me, Ted." "Your name is Meathead?"

Let's talk meat for a minute. I had to make our sandwiches for lunch this morning and decided to make peanut butter and jelly because the thought of consuming another ham sandwich made me want to hurl. So I started musing about my aversion to lunchmeat. Don't get me wrong, I will eat lunchmeat. I like turkey and chicken especially, and if the right ingredients are on a sandwich, I enjoy it quite a bit. But for some reason, the idea of baloney, ham and anything with the word "loaf" in it make me gag. I just can't figure out why. I don't think I've ever had a lunchmeat-related trauma in my life. And I have my aversion to meat on the bone because of my love for animals and dislike of chewing gristle, but lunchmeat shouldn't be a problem since it doesn't look like the animal from whence it came. So I don't understand what I have against ham, is what I'm saying. I guess I should just be happy that hamburgers are actually made from beef...cause I love me a hamburger. Great. Now I want a pickle.

You're not conceited...you're just honest. I love chewing gum

Today is going to be a rough day. And you know how I know that? I woke up with "Rico Suave" in my head. If that's not a sign of the coming apocalypse, I don't know what is.

I found out the other day that one of our neighbors is moving. This is good because this was the girl who tended to invite over her friends at 2 a.m. to have drunken screaming matches with each other in the middle of the street, but it's bad because there's a high probability that someone even worse will move in when they leave. The girl next door wasn't all bad either. Once she had her baby, things were calmer, but I get the impression that she's just one of those girls that tends to attract crackhead friends the way some people attract mosquitos. I find that phenomenon to be quite interesting. Me, I've never had an abusive boyfriend, hung out with a meth addict or visited someone in jail. But you hear stories all the time of people who live like that every day: stuck in a wasteland of empty beer cans, old sweatpants and court orders. It's funny, though, because as much as I want to know how that happens, I don't really want to investigate it personally. Because I am a snobby jerk. At least I'm honest about it.

Carbo-loading

We're doing inventory in the library this week. For those of you unfamiliar with the adventure that library inventory is, we have to read off a shelf list and check that each and every book is present and accounted for and in its correct position. If anything is missing, we have to scour the library to find it. We don't have that big of a library, but inventory takes days. Days! It's one of those things that's not hard, but it's tedious and monotonous, and you find yourself daydreaming about fire a lot, that's all I'm saying. I wish we were one of those rich, Seattle libraries that has robots to do inventory for them, but, alas, we are not that rich or techno-forward. The good thing here is that our bosses tend to feel sorry for us when we're doing inventory, so they bring in bagels and pizza. If only someone would bring in some wine, too....

I am Superann and I can do anything

I've been up since about 4 today. Since I was wide awake and we saw X-Men 3 yesterday, I spent the couple hours before the alarm went off trying to decide what kind of mutant superpower I'd like to have if it were up to me. As cool as it would be to fly, I'm still thinking telekinesis or the ability to walk through walls would be better. Think how easy it would be for me to procure food and candy if I had either one of those powers! I'm pretty sure I would not want to have ESP though. If there's one thing I don't need, it's hearing other people's inner monologues. Bottom line is that if I ever did mutate, it would be just my luck to get some lame superpower like the ability to grow my hair at will. Big whoo.

And we watched a lot of soccer this weekend. After watching dozens of players collapse on the field after being touched by a butterfly, J and I came up with a new rule for international soccer: there will be no red cards given or medical time-outs unless one of the following occurs: a) copious bleeding, b) bones broken AND protruding through the skin, c) explosive diarrhea, or d) spontaneous combustion of a goalie. That's it. All other "injuries" will have to be walked off. Now get out there you pansy soccer players, and let's see some hustle!

Help me help you

I don't know what's up, but something seems to be wrong with the blog. I can't get the front page to open up, although when I check on it, I can get into the posting page. Curious. I think Tom Cruise is succeeding in his campaign to erase anything negative someone wrote about him. Don't take it so personally, Tom. I don't like Angelina Jolie either, but you don't see her getting all worked up about it. Geesh.

Until I can take down the Scientologists, I shall post a picture of the Wubby as a calming salve against the injustices of an unkind world:

He's so very fluffy!

Oh, no, you didn't!

It was another fun-filled night of Springer-esque drama on our street last night. About 10:30, we heard a woman screaming bloody murder outside, so we jumped up, opened the door, and saw a girl driving down our street, screaming out her car window at a guy who was following her on foot down the middle of the road. That went on for a minute or two, then she finally drove away. Of course, it didn't end there. A minute later, she drove back, parked in front of our house and started slapping the guy who had been following her. Then she ran across the street and started screaming at a different guy. Apparently, he was her boyfriend, and he'd been cheating and she'd just found out. J told me that's what it sounded like they were saying...I couldn't make out a single word because it just sounded like screeching to me. But they finally stopped fighting without coming to blows (which, I have to admit, I was shocked about...usually when this happens on our street, at the very least a car gets a good beating). It was just so silly on so many levels. These kids are probably, I don't know, 19 or 20 years old. Shouldn't they be eating Doritos and watching The O.C.?

I'm done running. Bring me some ale!

I've always been kind of anti-treadmill at the gym. I generally stick to the elliptical machines, stair steppers and bikes, mostly because I always thought running on a treadmill looked pretty boring and I was concerned my trick knees (old soccer injuries...I had the knees of an 80-year-old man by age 10) would snap if I ran that much. But I've been tired of my routine at the gym for the past couple weeks, so yesterday I gave the treadmill a shot. It wasn't that bad. The readout said I didn't burn that many calories, but it felt like a good workout, so I think I'll keep running and see what happens.

Unfortunately, I don't think I was really built for running. I'm not particularly skinny anymore, and I think my Polish/German heritage has me built more for tilling fields than running in a graceful manner. Basically, my legs have the heft of a Polish farmer, is what I'm saying. And that, my friends, makes me feel like a lumbering fool when I'm jogging. But once I get over that mental hurdle, I think it'll be ok. Cause if anybody makes fun of me, I'll just kick them in the knees. They don't know what they're messing with here.

Take an elbow in the eye like a man!

I have returned to my post here at the library after calling in sick yesterday. As far as I can tell, nobody dug into my food stash or found my collection of combustibles, so I think I'm ok. Phew! I really felt shredded yesterday. I don't remember much of yesterday morning because I was so tired, but I remember emailing someone and telling them that I was so exhausted it felt like my eyeballs were melting. That's pretty gross imagery right there. See what watching Raiders of the Lost Ark as an 8-year-old will do to you? That melting Nazi scene never really goes away.

I did get to see some good World Cup soccer yesterday. I had originally thought I'd root for Italy, but after them overact during their match with the U.S.A., I believe I have grown weary of their histrionics. Plus, about 4 of them had to leave the game with injuries, and I just can't respect athletes who appear to be made of glass. I mean, really. It's soccer. If you can't take being kicked in the leg, you might want to go back to babysitting baby rats with your mommy. Sissy boys!

Ice cream social studies

Today the library is throwing an ice cream social for anybody on campus who feels like showing up. Watching the plans for this event unfold over the last two days has been a lesson in different personality types. I don't know if you ever really understand somebody until you've seen them throw a party. See, I cannot stand event planning, so if I invite people over to my house, I'm just happy if I remember to offer them a drink and order a pizza that we eat on paper plates. And there are some people who seem to have a real knack for party planning and can throw together an impressive shindig in the blink of an eye. But I think the rest of the world falls somewhere in between...where they throw nice parties but they drive everyone around them completely insane in the process.

And don't even get me started on Martha Stewart. Ugh. That woman. You remember back in the day when you could just show up to a potluck with a fruit and jello salad? Ever since ol' Martha arrived on the scene, now the stakes are so high that if you didn't spend 3 hours in the kitchen shaping pate into dolphins, you're considered a failure. Freakin' Martha Stewart.

Really, I think the bottom line here is that if you're giving away free food, don't worry about presentation. If you're charging $50 admission, then, by all means, get everybody drunk so they won't remember if the tablecloths matched. Otherwise, people just need to relax.

That'll do, pig...that'll do

I hate being stressed about work. Yesterday was one of those days full of tension, crisis and minor freak-outs. I mean, it's still a library, so it's not as bad as having to defend your coke-snorting boss to the press, but it's still annoying. Sometimes I just don't enjoy being mid-level at my job. I am completely terrified of being in a position of heavy responsibility, but there must be advantages to being able to say to an underling "I have made up my mind. Do what I tell you. And then fetch me a biscuit and stop crying."

This is a picture I took from the web and look at whenever I'm getting those tense knots in my stomach from situations I can't control. Behold the Autobahn Sow:

I love that pig.

Eh, they were abused children

Twice now the blogger system has taken a post I was working on and erased it. And both times I've been writing about Top Gun. Is anybody else starting to think Tom Cruise's scientology buddies are monitoring my blog? Scary! But I shall not desist. This is still America, dang it, and if I want to trash an 80's movie, that's my right. So there.

Seriously, though, has anybody watched all of Top Gun lately? People, this movie is not standing the test of time very well. When I was 12, I thought it was exciting, romantic and a piece of classic American cinema. Now I watch it and think Tom Cruise is either a really good actor and can convey stupidity as well as Dustin Hoffman or (and I think this is more likely) he's just a putz and can't hide it. And can we talk for a minute about the chances that a woman with a PhD in astrophysics would find a guy like Maverick attractive? This is a dude who is incredibly immature and isn't even smart enough to wear a helmet while riding his motorcycle. Riiight. At this point, I'm thinking Goose is really the best part of that movie. I think it would have been way more entertaining if Maverick had died in the ocean (I'm imagining him unsuccessfully trying to beat off a gang of hungry sharks), and Goose had spent the rest of the movie running around in his sleeveless sweatshirt, playing the piano and making fun of Slider. That's comic gold, my friends...comic gold.

David Beckham is a wuss. There. I said it.

I was just reading a news story on Yahoo about how polar bears sometimes resort to cannibalism to survive when their food supply runs short. Man, that's a tough life. I would never judge a polar bear because, well, I'm no polar bear, but any situation where you look to your left and then your right and your cousin, Betty, starts to look like a good dinner...well, that's just sucky.

I saw that the American soccer team got whomped by the Czech Republic yesterday. Sigh. I think the Czech Republic is about the size of Kentucky, but it sounds like they've got some really good soccer players there, so you can't begrudge them their victory. I actually spent a couple days in the Czech Republic back in '95 when I studied abroad. It's a neat country. Back then, you could get a lunch of 2 hot dogs, chips, cookies and a Coke for about 75 cents. Sweet. The people were really nice...although I didn't speak the language so they could have been calling me stupid for all I know. I really loved visiting Switzerland and Germany, too. I'd love to get back to both of those countries sometime. Good food, nice people and excellent cheese and pretzels. Mmmm.

You sank my battleship!

J and I went to see my side of the family on Saturday and had a delightful time. Nephew #2 was playing with marbles--he'd grab a handful, throw them up in the air and yell "Yahtzee!" Heh. It inspired me and J to buy a Yahtzee game at Walmart yesterday, so we played that last night since nothing was on tv. You know, instead of boring us to death with golf, basketball playoffs by teams nobody cares about and NASCAR, why don't the networks show more World Cup soccer? At least international soccer has occasional riots. Now THAT'S excitement. Anyway, playing Yahtzee was fun. I haven't done that in years. I rolled many a full house and small straight, but never once did I get actual Yahtzee. Hmph.

I also made two batches of no-bake cookies yesterday. I got on a roll and now we have something like three dozen cookies sitting in the refrigerator. I should probably give some to my inlaws or bring them into work to share, but with the way J and I eat desserts, they'll probably be gone tonight. But the good thing is that when we both weigh 300 pounds, we'll still have each other...mostly because we'll be too big to leave the house.

I slack, therefore I am...not amounting to much

My boss informed me yesterday that an intern will be coming in today to learn some things about digitization here at the library, so I'll need to show her what I do and what sort of issues I work with. This makes me nervous on several levels because a) I fear she'll figure out rather quickly that my job fluctuates wildly between incredibly dull and gutwrenchingly boring and b) I'm not sure if what I know about digitization amounts to much. Sure, I do it all day, but that sort of familiarity with a subject can lead you to a point where you're so involved in it, you're not sure you're even doing it the right way anymore. A big job fear is that one day, a librarian will walk in here, see how we catalogued the slides, gasp in horror and announce we did it "all wrong!"

Not that I'd chuck all my worldly goods and become a sherpa if that happened, but it would be embarrassing. I try to maintain strong boundaries between my job performance and my overall sense of self, because, seriously, those people whose lives are all about work just plain scare me. I'm reading a book right now about bank workers in New York who work 16 hour days and aren't allowed to leave their desks. This to me does not sound like fun. I get annoyed when I have to stay 5 minutes late waiting for J to get out of the office. Geesh.

Is it really June 8th already?

I saw this on tvguide.com yesterday, and I just had to share: if baby girl Shiloh Jolie-Pitt ever starts going by Shiloh Pitt (and we all know she'll have to because at some point her mother will disappear in the jungles of the Congo with her tribe of faithful worshippers a.k.a. the French tabloid press), if you switch the first consonant sounds of Shiloh and Pitt, do you realize what you get? Ha! I'm so mean that I'm actually making fun of 2-week-old babies now. Mwa ha ha!

I'm hungover from eating too many Twizzlers last night. I had to pick up a few things from the store yesterday and saw those monster bags of Twizzlers on sale for $1. I think there are about 3 twists left in the bag after the feeding frenzy we started while we watched celebrity poker on tv. Ughhhh...I'm in strawberry withdrawal.

They say I'm ugly, but it just don't faze me

Wubby J.! I took this picture of him before we left for Vegas and confused the heck out of the poor guy. I think he's finally getting used to having us home again because the level of cat food is going down in his dish by much larger amounts now, but he still seems wary of us. And he's attacking my ankles with a vicious ferocity usually reserved only for the scratching post. But a few bloody toes is worth it if the Wubbiss is happy.

I watched Kathy's Griffin's reality show on Bravo last night. Man, she is funny. "Dos Homos." Ha! I love how she's willing to put really humiliating situations on her show. Reality shows where the celebrities are happy, fortunate and sunny are just aggravating. Because, honestly, don't we all like to believe that the incredibly rich and beautiful are secretly miserable and depraved? Don't we all secretly hope Donald Trump is actually missing a testicle? You know it's true!

I got spurs that jingle jangle jingle

I finally got our pictures from Vegas. I'm not going to bore you with pictures of casinos, but I AM going to bore you with pictures of Red Rock Canyon, because I thought that place was just amazingly gorgeous. It's such a different topography than you find in Columbus that I spent the whole couple hours we were there being awed. It was great. I'm also happy that we didn't run into any scorpions or sidewinders, although we did get a little freaked out by what sounded like a whole hive of killer bees by the sandstone quarry. So we beat a path out of there like the city folk we are. Behold the grandeur of the American Southwest!

Columbus seems so small and poorly lit

We're back! We had such a good time in Vegas. Aside from the shin splints, blisters, sunburn and heat rash, it was perfect. I'm not saying that going to the desert when the highs were hovering around 103 was a BAD idea, per se, but next time I'm thinking about going in February. And if we could all work on them getting more trams, I think that would be fabulous. But I really don't want to sound like I'm complaining too much because we had a ton of fun. We had to go to a time-share presentation to get them, but we got discounted tickets to a Cirque du Soleil show that was really cool, we rode the New York, New York roller coaster, we went to Red Rock Canyon (amazing), and we went inside the casinos we missed last time. The Venetian, hello, you are gorgeous! And the Wynn is interesting, too. They have very real-looking astroturf instead of grass on their front lawn area. Surreal. I didn't gamble much, but I did win $100 in a slot machine. We had lots of drinks that night. Party!

The other good news is that my younger sister had her baby boy last Wednesday! He was born 8 pounds, 14 ounces. My gah. But he's doing just fine. I think my sister's body is still in shock from the size of the being that passed through her, but she's well on the road to recovery.