because behaving is boring

Monthly Archives: February 2012

Do you ever get something wedged into your brain and suddenly you have to acquire said thing just to get some peace? Because until you get this thing you just will not stop thinking about it?

Well I do. It happens pretty frequently with food…And sometimes other things. I had skinny jeans on the brain for a good long while until I went out and got myself a pair. I kind of had cell phones on the brain since I’ve convinced myself I desperately need a new one…So last night I finally joined Team Android and ditched the ol’ Blackberry.

 I’ve seriously had visions of fruit pizza dancing through my mind for quite some time. I know, it seems like a silly thing, but I can’t help what gets stuck in there.

The first time I had fruit pizza was in my high school Home Economics class… I remember that we also made veggie pizza that day. You know, with the biscuit crust, ranch and raw veggies?

Last summer I went to a cookout at The BF’s aunt’s house and someone brought a fruit pizza. I actually didn’t get any of it but I wasn’t worried because I just figured I’d whip one up myself…I mean, they’re easy as can be and take no time at all to make.

So summer went away and all of a sudden it was winter… Then I had to go and become unemployed and super broke, and it just somehow slipped my mind until about a week ago when it came up again in a random conversation with my boss.

My brain instantly screamed “WE MUST HAVE THE FRUIT PIZZA!”

I found myself at Kroger Monday night and I was pleasantly surprised at how nice the blueberries, strawberries and kiwis looked. I decided to be super lazy and get the slice-and-bake sugar cookie dough and a disposable pizza pan. Sorry polar bears.

The makings of fruit pizza...and my grilled cheese sandwich.

To make fruit pizza, smash sugar cookie dough into your pizza pan until it covers the bottom and bake according to the package directions. Mix an 8 oz package of cream cheese with 1/3 cup sugar and about 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla (you can adjust the amounts to taste…I’ll probably reduce the sugar next time). Make sure to let your cookie crust cool, then spread the cream cheese mixture on it. Then, artfully arrange the fruit on the pizza. You are not allowed to just haphazardly throw the fruit on the pizza. ARTFUL. Make it pretty.

He's supervising.

YUM!

I don’t think anyone will be super impressed or think you just slaved for hours in the kitchen if you make this, but who cares? It’s good!

…And so was my grilled cheese sandwich.


Today my boss is attending a meeting in the big city, so I’m left in the office all by my lonesome. The only company I’ve had for most of the day has been my own thoughts…

Apparently, my thoughts have decided not to play nice today.

I’ve had this feeling of dread all day long…a kind of heavy, squeezeish feeling in my chest that isn’t going away.

Image from: So, I Was Thinking...

 
I basically feel like I have big, nasty storm clouds hovering above my head. I don’t know about you guys, but I do not like that feeling.
 
On more than one occasion I’ve caught myself just staring off into space with what-ifs and worries scrolling through my head.
 
I wish I knew what triggered this day-O-gloom, or at the very least how to get out of this funk.  I’m blaming my thyroid, since I know having a less than functioning thyroid can contribute to feelings of depression and anxiety. Having something to point my finger at is making me feel only slightly better. If I were a hugger, I’d say I need one.
 
But I’m not! So please don’t track me down and hug me. It would cause the anxiety alarms to go off and I just might cry.
 
Side note: I once told someone I don’t like to hug because she was coming toward me with her arms wide open and ready to shatter my personal bubble. I felt a little rude for saying it but she seriously had that crazy I’mma Gonna Hug You! look in her eye and I was about 2 seconds away from full-blown IMPENDING HUG FROM A STRANGER panic mode. Upon hearing that I don’t typically enjoy hugs, she smiled and put her arm around me (THAT’S STILL A HUG, LADY) and said “That’s ok! You’re just claustrophobic!”
 
I can assure you that I don’t have a problem with enclosed spaces…in fact, sometimes I feel more comfortable in a smaller place. I don’t care if you took Psychology 101 at University of Phoenix online, Lady, your diagnosis was incorrect. Thanks for playing!
 
So where was I…
 
Oh, yes. Doom and gloom, wailing, gnashing of teeth and whatnot.
 
I need some suggestions. I know I’m not the only one that randomly gets whallopped in the head by anxiety and his jerk friend depression… What are some things I can do to help the two unwelcomed guests depart rather quickly? Prescription medications aren’t an option right now because I still have no insurance. Yes, I work for an insurance agent and I have no health insurance. It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.
 
Wait…No it isn’t. Alanis, that isn’t ironic. It’s kind of funny in the “Well that figures…” kind of way, but it’s not ironic. **
 
Hmmm…
 
So, what are your tried and true methods for chasing gloom away?
 
 
 
**I sincerely apologize if I got this song stuck in your head. If it makes you feel better, it’s firmly implanted in my brain now, too.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

My Dad’s sense of humor is at times almost painfully corny… I think a good chunk of my sense of humor is the same way. My dad somehow always has a terribly groanworthy joke to tell and while some people might think they’re stupid, I find them hilarious.

Q. Why does Santa wash his clothes in Tide?

A. Because it’s too cold out-tide!

Q. How to you top a car?

A. You ‘tep on the brake ‘tupid!

Q. Why are turds tapered?

A. So your butthole doesn’t slam shut!

I’m sure my mother is just bursting with pride after reading that one…

My absolute favorite Dad joke is one that wouldn’t be funny at all in this format… It’s one of those joke I will never get tired of. I go through phases that involve me telling the joke over and over until it really isn’t funny to anyone but me. Hell, at times I just like to yell the punch line at people.

Then again, I tend to think sneaking up behind people and yelling anything at them is funny. I would LOVE to capture the joke and the victim’s reaction on video someday but as you can probably imagine, I’ve told the joke to pretty much everyone I know. Now they all know what’s coming and it isn’t nearly as hilarious.

I’m a big fan of startling people, too… My mom is pretty easily startled and this is (as usual) an endless source of amusement for me. I really enjoy waiting at the door bathroom door whenever she’s in there with my nose practically touching it, so when she opens the door I simply say “Hi!” and startle the daylights out of her.

I’m giggling just thinking about it.

One person I try hard not to startle is The Boyfriend. He has guns.

 

 

Share your favorite corny jokes in the comments!


Hey guys! Did y’all hear about New Jersey Governor Chris Christie’s decision to fly flags at half-staff to honor Whitney Houston?

*sigh*

Ok, first of all Mr. Man With Two Girly Names… Let’s remember who (and what) we’re honoring:

What we have here, boys and girls, is a crackhead. Sure, she had millions of dollars and a pretty singing voice, but she was a crackhead.

Ok, maybe I’m not being fair, so here’s a nice picture of her after a team of makeup and hair artists worked for a few hours to make her appear sober:

Here’s how I imagine that photo shoot went:

Photographer: Whitney, please sit still… Oh HELL, you’re sweating through your makeup again. MAKEUP!

Whitney: Uh, uh…Are we done? I…uh…need to go to the bathroom.

Photographer: NO. Hold still so she can touch up your makeup, ok? Oh damn, now your weave is all jacked up.

Whitney: *scratch scratch* Please can I go to the bathroom? I need my drugs…I MEAN, I have to pee.

Photographer: I said no. Now let’s fix your hair…Oh forget it. Just prop your head up on your hand to hold it in place… I don’t have time for this shit. Ok, now smile pretty!

Whitney: Um, but…when do I get to…um…pee?

Photographer: As soon as I get a decent shot.

Whitney: BIG PRETTY SMILE

 

I don’t know this for sure, but I think this photograph was taken immediately after that photo shoot. She finally got to pee.

So here’s the thing. There is NO WAY that the flag of this nation should be flown at half staff in honor of this person. NO WAY. That is something we do to honor fallen soldiers, not pop stars that overdosed and fell into a bathtub.

Let’s try and have some perspective here, people.

OH.

And she ruined our National Anthem.

 

 

(I am not heartless. I feel very sad for her family’s loss and I’m sure lots of people loved her dearly. I DO think the situation is very sad. OK? So please no hate mail.)


Yesterday, The boyfriend had some work to do at a hog barn. Knowing I’d enjoy a picture of cute little baby piggies, he sent me a picture message of some piglets sniffing his boots.

Me: Is it sad that my first thought was “Mmmmm…bacon!”

The BF: They’re babies. Wouldn’t be very much bacon.

Me: Ok, fine. “Mmmmm…future bacon!”

I mean, bacon is bacon is bacon, right?


The Boyfriend and I were having a lazy Sunday afternoon following lunch at a local Mexican place (I had chilaquiles con huevos…amazing). I had brought my gun to his house in hopes of cleaning it and maybe even firing it for the first time. It’s not brand new, in fact it’s been sitting in a safe for probably 40 years. ..But I have never had the opportunity to fire it and that’s just not ok.

If you’re curious, I have a Derringer .22 that looks like this:

Anyway…

So I was sitting in the chair looking at my gun when The BF asked if he could look at it. I handed it over along with two of the four bullets that were in the case. The next thing I know, The BF asks “Does it shoot?” and takes off outside. I realized what he planned to do and jumped out of the chair yelling “Wait for me!” while struggling to get my shoes on. I was halfway to the back door when I heard a couple of loud POPS. **

I’m not gonna lie, I was pissed.

I threw a bit of a mini fit about him having the nerve to shoot my gun before I got a chance to…and he just giggled like a school girl. Oh yes, he did it on purpose. Apparently, he’s done it to a number of his friends.

That’s just mean.

About a minute into my mini fit I realized I still had two bullets in my hand…So I took my gun back, loaded it, and stepped outside to shoot.

Typically, I would pay more attention to the fact that I was about to make a very loud noise in close proximity to my delicate little ears. This time, however, I was preoccupied because I still couldn’t believe the boyfriend would be so mean to me. I mean, it’s my gun! I should get to fire it first! And I’ve only been waiting my whole entire life! Well, it seemed that way, anyway.

SO being the genius that I am, I just pointed it and pulled the trigger. I did NOT expect such a little gun to be so loud. Immediately following the shot, my ears began doing that awful high-pitched ringing. Of course, I’d already fired once and it only holds two rounds, so I went ahead and fired the next one.

Again with the damn ringing. Or maybe I should say, still. I really thought I’d screwed up my hearing permanently for a minute. I mentioned the ringing to The BF (after he said something that I completely didn’t catch) and he didn’t seem worried. Then, just to really twist the knife, he started mimicking the high-pitched squeal that was going on inside my head.

Lucky for him, I was so excited from getting to actually shoot my gun that I quickly forgave him.

Remember kids, guns aren’t toys. Be safe. And wear ear protection. Amen.

**The BF and I were shooting at his house that happens to sit in the middle of a bunch of fields. We were being extremely safe (with the exception of my lack of ear protection) and no living creatures were harmed by the four shots we fired. Except for my ears. Don’t worry, they’re totally fine now!


Some of my long-term readers might remember a post I wrote a year ago (Happy Massacre Day!) about Valentine’s Day.

Well, that was actually right before I started seeing The Boyfriend. I’m sure some people thought I was just bitter about ol’ V-Day because I was single, so I thought I’d revisit the subject as a non-single person this year.

Know what?

I still think it’s stupid.

I’m not kidding when I say I don’t really care if The Boyfriend gets me anything for this Hallmark holiday. In fact, here are some typical Valentine’s Day gifts and exactly what I think of them:

Consider the above image…That’s a pretty standard Valentine’s Day present, right? Well, the roses will die and stink up the place because you’ll forget about them rotting away in a windowsill somewhere. The chocolates? I personally don’t eat sweets very often, so the majority of them will end up thrown away in a couple of months (when they get that strange white powdery stuff on them) or given to someone else. Plus, half of them probably have that weird, smooshy, fruit-flavored filling in them and I don’t know a single soul on Earth that likes biting into those chocolates.

Ok, those? Yeah, I’d probably eat a couple…But WHY would you buy them?! I mean, does anyone realize how ridiculously easy chocolate-covered anything is to make? Here:

1. Get melting chocolate

2. Melt chocolate

3. Dunk things

4. Let things sit on waxed paper until hardened

 

REALLY?! I am a 30 year old woman. What the hell would I need with a teddy bear bigger than me?! Or any teddy bear at all, for that matter. The chick in the picture looks as happy as a guy that just found out he’s not the father on Maury, but how do we know it’s because of the bear? Maybe she just dropped a giant deuce after being constipated for two weeks! I mean, that would make me happy about everything… “You got me oatmeal raisin cookies? Well I despise raisins but that’s ok ’cause I just shit for the first time in a week! Thanks for the cookies, man!” OR maybe she just dumped the guy that got it for her because he sucked at buying gifts, and this picture is of her hauling that stupid thing to the dumpster!

Happy Massacre Day, y’all!

 



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