7:45 p.m. - 2004-09-22
Good Will toward men
There is more. Yes there is more. See below if you've already read this.
If we put Michele and Renea into one person their name would be Richele Menea. Isn't that nice sounding? Except It woudl be spelled Rochelle Manea, because that looks nicer and more french.
And if we put Katie and Jenny into one person, their name would be Jatie Kenny, which is also a nice name.
And if we put me and Bethany into one person, her name would be Bessi Jethany.
TOday has been spent packing and laundering, with a fair amount of swearing mixed in there. How did I acquire so much STUFF?? I found a picture today of me and my dad, ice skating, both wearing stone washed jeans and vinyl-ish jackets. And one of me and my grandma sitting on my bed, when it was covered by a New Kids On The Block comforter. I am sporting a side pony tail and a black and white poka dotted outfit and black shoes with a white bow on them...and white socks. These are the things you do not throw away. Things that you do throw away, give to Good Will or burn are: Almost empty bottles of baby lotion, an ugly purse that has been hiding underneath the laundry backet that contains my ski clothes. Let's pause for a moment to reflect on the fact that I go skiing approximately once every year, and that is a generous estimate, mind you...and I have not only a laundry basket, but an OVERFLOWING laundry basket of ski wear. Let's see...long underwear, polypropelene socks, warm stretchy pants, sleeveless snow suit, THREE ski jackets (two of these are on their way to Good Will in just a few moments), two scarves, a neck gator, an ear thingie, very expensive gloves...oh dear. Now the really annoying part is that sometime in the next 18 months whne I want to go skiing, I will not be able to find at least three of these items, and will therefore have to borrow or even purchase them. How does this happen? It's because I move all of the time. When you live in the same place forever, you have that special place which is known as The Place Where Little Used Items Such As Ski Wear Go. But when you move every 6-12 months, there is no such place, and therefore everything gets lost.
Now for a run to the Good Will.
And when I say run, I mean drive, and when I say drive, I mean hand them to Ben Cape who kindly said he would take them. Now, if only everything else in life were that simple. Today, I was referred to on someone else's blog as a "Non-bike person." Hmm, given the context, I don't think it was intended to be offensive, as the clear object of discussion was a bike lock and not me. However, it makes me wonder what else people might call me involving the prefix "non." Hmm, let's see...non-detail oriented, non-patient, non-sleeping-without-prescription-medication, non-employed, non-sweatpants-person, non-supporter of the Bush campaign, non-Nickleback/Linkin Park-fan (can ANYONE tell the difference between these two? Everytime I turn on the semi-crappy radio station one of them is on and they suck. A lot.) Ben Cape had a really good blog entry today. To his entry, I say Here, Here. We should have blog awards, and this should get one. Brooke, you seem like the sort of person who could make the first annual blog awards happen. I trust your judgement. Get on it. But back to Ben Cape...Get in on what the cool kids are talking about, and by that I mean "me and what I just said here" at bencape.diaryland.com Hmmm, more names that are coming to mind...Brooke and Megan would have to be Bregan Mooke, also a nice name. Man, this name thing is relaly taking off...just find two friends and put their names together to make a very original sounding first and last name combo. If I ever write a fiction book, be warned I am totally doing this. It was my idea. Oh shit. There is a gigantic spider on the ceiling. Right above my bed. I just love this. Find flip flop (these make the best weapons because they are not too heavy, nice and flat on the bottom, so there's no chance of them only getting partially squished because of some stupid tennis shoe divet, and flip flops are also not too loud late at night, and they're thin, so you can kind of feel that satisfying gut popping crunch. Sick. I know. It's like being a CIA agent or maybe like a CTU agent...you have to almost enjoy the killing part to do a good job. Otherwise you get distracted worrying about the spider's family or something.) OK. It's clearly time for bed.
