doahleigh - Holy Waste of Teabags!

Last night I had a really weird dream in which… wait, where are you going? Why are you leaving? Oh no, no this isn’t one of those boring recountings of a dream that is only interesting to the dreamer. No, this is the story of a strange coincidence that I truly hope doesn’t turn out to be prophetic.

It was actually this morning between snoozes. I had a really quick but vivid dream that Brad, me and my best friend boarded a plane to some unknown destination. Not so odd, except the plane was extremely old and rusty. I was made of the same cheap metal as an old fishing boat, and dented just as badly. It had no roof, the seats were metal humps that we straddled, and the seat belts were worn and broken. Plus we were flying directly above city streets, narrowly missing street lamps, buildings and tree branches.

I kept telling Brad that this plane just didn’t seem right, but he assured me it was fine. Suddenly we were out of control, spinning wildly. I realized I didn’t have my seat belt on, and I fumbled for a terribly long time trying to buckle myself in. Just when I got it hooked, we started spiraling toward the ground, tail first. We heard the captain say, “Ladies and gentlemen, now is the time to buckle up. We’re heading for a crash landing.” Just before we hit, he managed to right the plane and we came to a crashing halt parallel to the ground. Nobody died, and then some other things happened after that, but those details don’t matter.

The important thing here is that my dream involved me flying in a very old plane and crashing to the ground.

Since the dream occurred just before my last alarm, it was fresh in my mind when I got up. Moments later I turned the tv on to the Today show, and what’s on the screen? Video of various aircraft and a tagline at the bottom of the screen that read, “Aging Airplanes: Too Old to Fly?”

It was all about airlines that still employ old aircraft, which are at a much higher risk for malfunction. Now I’m not suggesting that these airlines put passengers in planes made of rusted aluminum and strap them in with no roof overhead. But it all seems a little too coincidental, no?

I’m just glad we’re not flying to Florida tomorrow. Eighteen hours in a rental car? Yes please, I’ll take it.

I’m one of those cliches who can’t figure out how to work a VCR. I thought I had it all set to record American Idol last night, and I didn’t realize that idea had failed until I got home at 8:45. Because of this lapse in intelligence, I only managed to catch the last half of the show, completely missing the first through sixth contestants. Therefore, the analyses of the first six below are based solely on the brief clips they replayed at the end of the show. Which is okay because that’s all anyone really needs to thoroughly judge a person’s worth, character, personality, singing ability, whatever. 

Phil: yes
Jared: okay
AJ: okay
Sanjaya: eh
Chris S: okay
Nick: okay
Blake: pretty good
Brandon: kind of odd
Chris R: loved it
Sundance: blech

Given that I missed half the show, I can’t make a very good prediction about who will be voted off on Thursday. You’d think Sanjaya and Brandon because of their weak performances, but people love the little guy and Brandon still has more charisma than some people (hi Nick). Obviously my choice is for a farewell to Sundance, but voters liked him after his horrible performance last week and since last night he was less horrible, I think we might even be seeing him in the top twelve. Again, blech.

Oh look, it’s February 27. Have I mentioned that I’m leaving for Florida in two days? No? Well I guess it must have slipped my mind. Which is weird because holy crap I’m going to Florida in two days!

Remember these from last year…

Yeah, totally going again. We’re staying with my grandparents at their condo. On the beach. With multiple pools. In Florida. We leave Thursday night and plan to return more than a week later, after we’ve had our fair share of sun and warmth. It’s warmer there now than it’s forecasted to be the whole time we’re visiting, but anything seems better than the cold and snow we’re surrounding by here. So Florida, watch out. A couple of pasty white Michiganders are coming down, and we’re not afraid to show a little pasty white skin.

Bad news is, the grandparents have something called dialup. Not really sure what that’s all about, some kind of archaic method for internet access I guess. I don’t know. But I’ve heard it might hinder my daily email and blog reading, not to mention blog writing. So after tomorrow, unless we get lucky, you might have to look for me on the other side of next week.

I don’t have much to say that hasn’t already been said about this classic. But I will point this out…there are only so many literary character names that are widely and almost immediately recognizable.

Among them: Atticus Finch, Scout, and Boo Radley

Now that’s good character naming!

Oh god, I have nothing to say. The biggest thing on my mind is something I can’t really write about. The second biggest thing is yet more drama involving stupid decisions I’m incapable of making. So not interesting. And the third thing is about how blasted tired I am all the time, a topic that has just about run its course around here too. So even though I’m no fashionista and will always prefer my boyfriend’s comfy sweats over a fancy evening gown, clicking through the Oscar’s Red Carpet Gallery seemed like a nice mindless thing to distract me for awhile.

And ta da, I present my two favorite dresses of the evening:

I wish I had the boobs to pull off Celine’s dress, but I can’t go one braless hour without fearing that my boobs will have sagged to my toes by the time I get them up and supported again. Not that they’re anywhere near that now, but I can’t help feeling like they slip a little more each time I let them breathe. Instead I think I’d have to go with something a little more Kate-ish, keep the girls nice and encased. I’m still trying to find a way to get good support and sport some nice cleavage. You know, for all the times I get dressed up. (Never).

Also, it would be a good guess if you’re thinking I like the color green. I’m always drawn to it, especially in clothing. This was one of my favorite dresses from last year’s award season…

In any other color, that dress would be horrible, but hey, I love me some emerald. Love me some green! As a matter of fact, I’m wearing a green sweater right now. Swear I didn’t plan that. Well, that was fun, but it didn’t create nearly as much mindless distraction as I had hoped. Maybe I’ll go read American Idol bios next.

Attention ladies and drag queens: have you all ever used waterproof mascara? Am I the only one who has been in the dark this whole time about this stuff?

If you think I’m about the rave about the wonder of waterproof mascara, you’re wrong. In fact, I’m really learning to loathe the goop I put on my lashes each morning.

Throughout most of college, I rarely ever wore makeup. I owned little more than a powder compact and one shade of greasy eye shadow, and I only used those on special occassions. On one such special occassion though, I decided to go all out and borrow my roommate’s eyelash curler and mascara. I found that I loved that particular mascara so much that I went right out and bought my own. And even though that first tube lasted me a couple years (bad, I know), it never failed me. Eventually I graduated and got a job and had to be presentable more often, so I minimally increased my makeup supply and began to go through tubes of mascara much more quickly. But for the last five years, I’ve always stuck with Maybelline’s washable Full n’ Soft mascara in Very Black.

Until a couple weeks ago. I had been scraping the inside of my mascara tube for weeks and finally broke down (I hate spending money on makeup) during one visit to WalMart. However, they must have been short on stockers that day because the cosmetics section was nearly wiped out. My long-relied-upon mascara was completely gone, and the only near substitutes were the washable version in Dark Brown (um, no) or waterproof in Very Black.

Waterproof, I’ve heard that’s pretty good, I thought to myself. I can cry, swim, let my eyes water and never have to worry that I’ve got black streaks all over my cheeks. I’ll take it!

What I failed to consider is that I could also take a shower and wash my face without worrying about black streaks. When they say waterproof, they really mean it.

Now each night when I wash my face, I spend about 10 minutes trying to remove the paste on my eyelashes. I scrub scrub scrub with water. Doesn’t budge. I scrape it with wet soapy fingernails and only manage to infect my eyes soap suds. I try a washcloth. Nothing. Before, all it took was a little water, a little soap and a little rubbing. Now it takes bleach and buzz saw to rid my lashes of the black goop.

I’ve considered buying some kind of makeup remover, but not only do I hate spending money on makeup, I also hate spending money on things to remove it. So my dilemma is this: either chuck the waterproof and pay $6 for the stuff I wanted in the first place, shell out the money to buy makeup remover, or shut the hell up and consider myself stuck with this sticky glue for at least another month.

I understand the value of waterproof mascara for things like, say, sappy award shows and Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition photo shoots, but for every day use it’s really more work than it’s worth. I rarely cry, my eyes don’t water easily, and it’s the middle of a freezing winter, so swimming is pretty much out. If I wasn’t so Dutch, I would have resolved this problem long ago, but as the HUGE cheap ass that I am, I’m instead holding out for humanity to realize that it is men who should wear the makeup and women who should always be au natural. Has that happened yet by the way?

My first observation about the female version of American Idol’s top 24 last night: why do all the white girls look the same? If you lined them all up and told me to decipher who’s who or what they sang last night, I wouldn’t know where to start. With the possible exceptions of Antonella (is she white?) and Gina, the other white girls seem to be boring clones of one another.

Second observation: in general the girls blew the guys out of the Orpheum. I agree with Randy…there should be maybe four guys in the top twelve and the rest girls. And even those could quickly be wittled down to about seven people who even stand a chance of winning.

And now my assessment of the evening’s contestants (Brad wanted to play along, so the (b)s indicate his favorites):

Stephanie: yes (b)
Amy: okay
Leslie: okay (b)
Sabrina: yes (b)
Antonella: no, sorry
Jordin: yes
Nicole: okay
Haley: no
Melinda: yes (smiley)
Alaina: no
Gina: okay
Lakisha: yes!

Early favorites are Melinda because I liked her from her very first audition, and Lakisha because she’s representing Michigan (a town not too far from where I live no less), and also? Girl can sing!

My picks to go home tonight: Antonella and Haley. Alaina is a close third, but I like her name better than Haley, so she can hang out one more week.

And in closing, I will now try to adopt the phrase “You have the personality of a candle,” courtesy of one Mr. Cowell, into my vernacular. Some of the things that come out of that man’s mouth are splendid.

I’m just going to go ahead and embrace my American Idol fanaticism right from the beginning. No sense hiding it or putting off the inevitable. I understand completely if you think American Idol is the worst thing since whatever the last worst thing was, but I can’t keep myself from being completely hooked on this show by the time everyone gets to Hollywood.

Last night the top 12 guys performed, two of which will be voted off Thursday night. I feel quite strongly about two who shouldn’t even be there in the first place, and even though I never vote, I trust those that do will follow my heart on this one. Here’s my basic summary of last night:

Rudy: NO!
Brandon: okay
Sundance: NONONO!
Paul: okay
Chris R: okay
Nick: yes (I have a soft spot for nice guys)
Blake: yes!
Sanjaya: okay (I want to put him in my pocket)
Chris S: yes (love a funny guy who can sing)
Jared: okay
AJ: yes (finally in the top 24 on his fifth audition, gotta pull for him a little longer)
Phil: yes (I find something oddly attractive in this guy… maybe tall and skinny?)

These are definitely not based solely on vocal performance. I get easily sucked into the human interest stories of the contestants. For instance, I like Nick just because he seems nice and genuiniely eager to succeed in this. My favorite of the night was Blake because I like the Keane song he sang (”Somewhere only we know”), he’s a killer beat boxer which I’ve always thought is an admirable talent, and most importantly, he doesn’t seem like a dick.

My least favorite, the one who I’ve disliked since the beginning, is Sundance. There is always a few people who slip by and somehow snake their way into the final 24 and even the top 12. Sundance is one of those people. Time to go home big fella.

None of these things seem to warrant their very own post, so I’ve jammed them all together into a single update even though I can’t find a common thread anywhere.

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I watched Marie Antoinette last night while Brad was gone. I like new spins on historical people and events, so I thought I’d give it a try, and yes, I liked the movie. One scene in particular intrigued my thoughts however: Marie Antoinette giving birth to her first child in a large ornate bedroom, on her bed, while about 40 people look on, anxiously awaiting the heir to the throne. Forty people look on while she’s giving birth.

Okay excuse me, but how in the world did we go from 18th century France where the nation’s queen gives birth in front of a live audience of dozens of women and men, to the 19th century American south where Scarlett O’Hara is scorned for the very sin of being seen in public while pregnant, to the 1950s when American fathers smoke cigars in hospital waiting rooms or even have a beer at the bar down the street only to return well after their wives have given birth and everyone is all cleaned up and proper, to today when men are regularly present in the delivery room and even assist with the childbirth? It’s like full circle and then some. I really have nothing else to say, but just think about it, kay?

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You may have tried to comment here recently and were basically told to turn around and mind the door on your way out. Sorry about that. Someone finally brought the little glitch to my attention, and I promptly put competent people on a mission to have it fixed. Everything should be working properly now, so go on, share your thoughts.

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Did you notice that I’m currently reading To Kill a Mockingbird? I read this novel back in middle or high school sometime, and even though I enjoyed it, I really hating re-reading books. I always figure that there are so! many! books! out there that I can’t possibly waste time reading anything more than once. But our little community over here in Michigan received a big ol’ grant from some national organization, and so I find myself on a coalition to plan a community-wide read. The book we chose? Right. So I figured I should freshen up on the finer points of the plot line if I’m going to be participating in this thing.

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And that’s all I have today. Oh except that my head is spinning off my neck right now and I can’t seem to control it. So if you find my decapitated body somewhere and my head is nearby, please reattach me so I can find a way to make sense of my life. Thanks.

We completely rearranged the furniture in our living room on Saturday and somehow ended up with a little extra wall space. We decided to fill it with an inexpensive bookcase (hello clearance section!) from Meijer. This would provide a way to relieve some of the stress from the overburdened bookcase in the bedroom while also finally providing a space to display that cool red glass mosaic vase that has been thus far stowed away in the dusty corner of a closet.

Brad and I are always intrigued by reality shows that require teams to compete in challenges, and we’ve often speculated about whether we’d excel as a couple in a situation like that. So to make the assembling of the bookcase a little more exciting, I proposed we imagine that we’re on a reality show where couples are pitted against each other, and our challenge for the day is to successfully assemble this bookcase in the least amount of time.

The rules of the challenge were as follows:
-I wasn’t allowed to touch any part of the bookcase or any tools, but I was allowed to see the directions
-Brad wasn’t allowed to see the directions, but could use any tools to assemble the bookcase

So here was my contribution to the process:

And here was Brad’s:

As you can see, I was just lazy and found a creative way to sit on my ass and watch tv while Brad did all the actual work. Actually, I really enjoy putting things like this together, but I thought it might be fun to see if we would kick the other couples’ asses if ever faced with such a challenge. We totally would.

I did cheat a little when I helped him pound some nails. The directions called for him to use 34 nails to attach the back of the bookcase, and as lazy as I am, I couldn’t allow myself to passively watch Girlfriends while he feverishly pounded all 34 nails. And even though we never set a timer, I still think we beat our imaginary competitors and totally won the money and all-expense paid trip to Maui. In your face suckahs!

Ta-da! The fully-assembled bookcase with a bunch of crap on it:

One of my silliest joys in life is watching people try to figure out the one traffic circle in our town. You all hopefully know the basic principles of a traffic circle. To avoid making a lot of traffic stop for long periods of time at certain, usually well-used, intersections, they have these nifty roadways that keep everyone moving rather smoothly. Unless “everyone” includes a bunch of idiots in cars, which it inevitably does.

We only have one traffic circle in town and so the citizens of Jackson aren’t really sure what to do with it. Granted it is a little more complex than your average traffic circle as one of the exits is actually a driveway to a school, and the other three are sort of oddly spaced out. Unless you read the signs correctly, you might not always know which lane you should be in.

I’ve attempted to recreate the traffic circle below. Forgive it’s rudimentary qualities; I had to do it in Paint as I am at… well not at home, we’ll say that. Each line indicates a different possible option for usage. Now add some elderly folks, some 16 year olds who just learned to drive, and some others who are just generally idiots, and you’ve got quite the recipe for chaos.

Nothing about the roads in this town make much sense to me, but I can at least understand the good intentions with this addition to an otherwise senseless system. It’s not too far from our house, so I drive through it at least twice a day, to and from work. I’ve never once had a problem navigating the circle, but that is definitely not the case for everyone. Much to my enjoyment, I frequently witness people acting like absolute morons as soon as they get anywhere near this section of the road.

The most common mistakes include:
-stopping in the middle of the circle to let someone else in
-using the wrong entrance lane and nearly hitting other cars to correct the mistake
-cutting people off to erroneously change lanes
-driving all the way around the circle because an exit strategy was not obvious
-pulling out in front of other cars because it was assumed they would stop
-stopping at the yield sign even when there is nothing to yield to

But my absolute favorite traffic circle blunder so far is when some poor old lady went the WRONG way in this very much one-way street. Brad and I pulled up next to her and noticed she had her left turn signal on. As far as I know you never turn left into a traffic circle anywhere. We frantically started discussing whether or not she’d follow through with her incorrect intention or if she’d realize her mistake before making the turn. Luckily traffic in the circle moves pretty slow, so there is generally no real danger if someone screws up. Therefore, we were practically cheering when she did indeed turn the wrong way.

We drove slowly in order to stay nearby and watch this whole thing unfold. Everyone else was equally bewildered, so traffic pretty much stopped while this lady drove clockwise around the circle despite the dozens of signs indicating that was exactly the wrong thing to do. Eventually, after much confusion, she did get herself out at one of the exit lanes, nobody was hurt, and traffic resumed as normal.

Brad and I find great joy in observing these mishaps, even actively hoping for a repeat of the wrong-way episode. Something about human idiocy is pure entertainment. I may have been in a bad mood this morning, but after watching someone come to a complete stop in the middle of the circle and waiting there, indicator blinking, for another car to pull out in front of them, I felt so much better.

I was tagged by Tripping Daisy to participate in the 5 Things meme. I haven’t done many (any?) memes since I moved over from livejournal, but I’ve never been tagged before and I’m so excited! So here ya go, five things most of you probably didn’t know about me:

1. Remember Puff Daddy and Mase, circa 1998? I almost met them once in Toronto. They were staying in the same hotel as my French club field trip group, so we all stayed up late stalking the lobby, waiting for them to arrive. Finally a chaperon ordered us to go to bed, which a few friends and I obediently did. Everyone else rebelliously stayed downstairs only to bound into our room moments later screaming hysterically about how the just met Puff and Mase! Puff and Mase! I missed them by minutes, literally, and now all I have to show for my sickening goody-two-shoes bullshit is a bunch of pictures of other French club members posing with the hip hop stars.

2. The first time I drank was at age 15 while visiting a friend’s older sister at college. Other than the occasional sip of something here and there, I didn’t drink again until I was 20, during a crazy summer I spent working at Yellowstone National Park.

3. I rarely ever drink now. I like a beer once in awhile, but I don’t like most wines (despite trying to develop a taste for it), and I don’t like the taste of any hard liquor. Make my drinks weak. I do enjoy a good margarita now and then, as long as it’s made right (read: light on the tequila). I’m just a wimp and I don’t enjoy abrasive flavors on my tongue. I do have a drink now and then, but I haven’t been drunk in over a year.

4. On my right foot, the toe next to my pinky toe is longer than the middle toe. This is a result of the “ring toe” being too long and the middle toe being too short. It’s a little freakish. The same is true for my left foot, but the difference is much more subtle.

5.* I can’t pronounce the word “ruin” correctly. Neither can any of my sisters. We all say “roon” instead of “roo-in” so it becomes a one syllable word instead of two. My parents don’t do this, so we didn’t learn it from them, yet all four of us say it wrong. There must be something wrong with our tongues. And believe me, the mispronunciation is noticeable. I actually avoid using that word because I’ll be mid-sentence (…and then he stuck his finger in the cake and rooned the whole thing…), and someone will stop me to exclaim, “Rooned! He roooooned it! Ahahahaha!” And whatever I was saying is no longer important. Bastards.

*I have a vague memory of writing this before, so maybe you already know this one about me?

I wrote that last post yesterday afternoon but neglected to hit publish. In the evening I almost decided to delete it instead, thinking there must be something better to write about than my stress and sadness and all that other crap. Again!

But then, despite the fact that I had gotten no sleep the night before, I was restless again last night. So at 12:15am, two hours after I had originally tried to go to bed, with no sleep in sight, I found myself sitting by the computer, watching Brad play old school games that he had downloaded on the Wii, and I decided I should definitely publish that post. Nothing made more sense than to complain to the world about my problems. Again!

Then a few hours after I finally fell asleep, my phone rang. The college is closed today, no work! It’s amazing what a little sleep can do for your state of mind.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Breakdown the 1st: I was in GR at my sister’s house yesterday. Everyone else was working or busy, so I was there alone most of the day. By alone I mean in the company or four pet-like animals: two cats, two dogs. And I’m definitely not a pet person. First the chihuahua woke me up far too early by scratching incessantly on the bedroom door. Then both the chihuahua and the terrier followed me everywhere I went. Everywhere. All day long the clickclickclick of dog paws on the hardwood floors behind me. To the bathroom, back to the couch, to the kitchen, into the office, back to the kitchen, the bathroom, living room, downstairs upstairs back and forth back and forth and oh my god please go lay down and leave me the hell alone already!

When I was trying to make some phone calls and research cars in the afternoon, the animals were crawling all over me. Leaving pet hair on my clothes, touching me with slimey noses, begging to get onto the couch because someone is too damn small to jump up herself. And even though one of the cats never showed its face, it meowed like the devil all day long from the basement.

Eventually I couldn’t take anymore. I needed them to leave me alone. I sat down at the kitchen table, looked at the two dogs eagerly awaiting my attention, and I begged them to please leave me alone. Please. Just for a minute, give me some peace. To keep myself from injuring one of them or myself, I put my head down on the table, fought back tears and did breathing exercises. I was that angry. From pets. Pets did this to me. If I can’t even handle furry little adorable animals, how can I handle the true challenges of life?

Breakdown the 2nd: I didn’t sleep last night. My brain would not shut down. Everytime I tried to sleep, my brain took over and said no way girlie, there is WAY too much to think about right now. No sleep until every single problem you’ve ever had or ever will have in your life is solved. So let’s get to it! I was miserable because I didn’t want to think anymore, I just wanted to sleep. Even when I dozed off for a bit, my brain would literally wake me up with it’s thinking. I don’t know if that’s ever happened to me before.

So this morning, after a restless night, I was running late for work and I couldn’t find my mittens. Where the hell! Are my mother! Fucking! Mittens! I tore the place apart looking for them, eventually slammed my way out of the apartment without even a goodbye to Brad, and found the mittens in my car on the way to work. Even upon finding them though, my stress wasn’t relieved. I kept a straight face all morning, but by noon, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. In the middle of a gmail chat with Brad, I started to overheat and had to fight back tears. I immediately grabbed my keys and left to take my lunch. I got in the car and cried.

Maybe I just needed to cry and get it out my system, but maybe I’m losing my mind. I was doing okay for awhile, but now all these big decisions are coming at me and I have no mechanisms for handling them. The thought of trying to figure something out is too much for me, and I don’t know how to express it other than to yell and cry and spend sleepless night after sleepless night thinking about it nonstop. I fear if something doesn’t get resolved soon, I might go off the edge.