Fake Blog Post in Lieu of Actual Writing

1. SELF-HARM

This morning at the office, I leaned down to pick up my cardigan which had fallen to the floor, and I rammed my throat into the edge of my desk chair. Ouch. It really hurt. Then, I yanked my head back from the chair and hit it on the wall behind me. That hurt too. A double whammy! Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am!

2. THE NAME GAME

I really like the name “MacLeod”. Something about the look of it makes me happy. And the sound. Very nice.

3. RELATIONSHIPS ARE HARD

Via Crazy Sexy Cancer...

“Did you ever consider that when you change, the people in your life have no choice but to change as well? Human relationships are a dance. When you change your steps, your partner cannot do the old dance. It won’t work.”

4. CUSTOMER SERVICE ODDITIES

I think it is funny that I sometimes feel the need to end conversations with government agents by cheerfully saying something along the lines of “Hopefully I’ll never have to talk to you again! Have a great day!”

5. HOOSIERS UNITE

Axl Rose is from Indiana? For reals?

Oh, Michael Phelps

How I love thee.

Cravings and Annoyances

CRAVINGS

I must be suffering from a serious burrito deficiency or something, because I cannot get enough of Boloco’s breakfast burritos! Huevos Rancheros! On a wheat wrap! Yes! With an iced coffee? Of course! Only $3? Are you joking?

Each morning, while I get ready for work, I tell myself, “I will not get a breakfast burrito today. I will not get a breakfast burrito today.” Then I get off the train and head straight to Boloco. It’s like a giant burrito magnet calling me home.

When I lived in Albuquerque, I was introduced to the joy and wonder that is the breakfast burrito, and my breakfast cravings have never been the same. Boston’s restaurant scene pisses me off for a variety of reasons, one of them being the lack of a decent breakfast burrito.

Other things that bother me about Boston’s culinary scene:

1) NOTHING is open after 11:00. Sure, there are a couple of places that offer breakfast at midnight, but they are few and far between. That, coupled with the ridiculous fact that the T shuts down around midnight, lead to a lot of drunken folks with no greasy spoon within walking distance. This makes no sense. None at all. There is a huge market for late-night eateries just waiting to be tapped. Is it some sort of blue law or something? Why can’t we have 24-hour restaurants?

2) Oh, well, I guess that is it.

3) Oh! There are not enough burrito/taco places. If I had my way, there would be a burrito place in every major square and near every single T station. Mmm…burritos.

ANNOYANCES

I dislike when women get their toenails painted in a French manicure style. The tips of their toenails are white, which only makes their toenails look freakishly long. I really, deeply dislike this look.

That is enough bitching for today, I guess. I’ll save my other annoyances for another day. I’m actually in a great mood, believe it or not. I get to see Radiohead tonight!!!! I am so excited. Have a good day!

When I said the other day that I felt like I was still in the process of quitting smoking, I meant it. Though it has been nearly one year and nine months since my last cigarette, staying smoke-free is an ongoing battle, and lately, I’ve been feeling particularly weak. I think it’s a combination of things, mainly, stress about my stupid plan, coupled with the temptation to sit on a porch in the summer sun and read and smoke the day away.

Occasionally, I’ll think, hmm, I could have a cigarette. Just one won’t do any harm. Just one will be nice. Then I remind myself that one is simultaneously too many and not enough. I was a chain-smoker. A pack a day, for nine years. There is no way I could have just one and be satisfied. Nope. Won’t work.

I saw this article this morning about having just one cigarette, and it definitely hit home with me. I remember my first cigarette. It was wonderful. I coughed, sure, but it felt like coming home. As stated in the article, that first cigarette was truly a “highly rewarding” experience. I loved it and I loved them. That’s why it is so incredibly hard to quit and stay quit. I have so many positive associations with smoking. I miss them.

Argh. My brain is tricking me. Just got to take it one day at a time. It is worth it.

Also, articles like this one piss me off.

Format Question

I'm annoyed. Do you see that white bar at the bottom of this entry? With the comments link, etc.? I can't make it change color. I don't want it to be white anymore.

Help, internet! Thanks.

Caffeine Is My Friend

I had a dream last night that me and a certain cute boy were dancing in the streets. Literally. Dancing in the streets. It was lovely.

Drove up to Ogunquit Beach this weekend with my family (man, do I love those babies). It was really nice. The sand was super soft and the water not too cold. I highly recommend this place, though the traffic getting there was kind of annoying.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about my caffeine addiction. It’s not good. Not good at all. I am a slave to caffeine and have been since high school. I usually have a cup of coffee on my way to work, a cup once I arrive, sometimes another before lunch (usually not), and one after lunch. So, three to four cups per day, but in my defense, I do cap my day’s caffeine consumption around 3:30.

About two months ago, with the hope that I might give up coffee for a while, I started drinking green tea for my first beverage of the day and it has been a refreshing change of pace. Green tea is easier on my stomach in the morning and easier to make the night before in my tiny little apartment, also know as The Box (The Box warrants a separate blog entry, I think).

I know my caffeine consumption, specifically my coffee addiction, needs to be curbed, but…well, I don’t wanna and I ain’t gonna. It’s not fair. I quit smoking and I sometimes feel like I’m still in the (very difficult) process of quitting smoking, so I shouldn’t have to quit caffeine too. Damnit. So that’s that. That is how I am going to rationalize taking little to no action to wean myself off this delicious junk. I shouldn’t have to quit two of my favorite vices simultaneously. It just isn’t fair.

One of my coworkers (I would say “superiors” but he is in no way superior to me) just asked whether I mind it when he calls me “sweetheart”. I stood there speechless, trying to figure out how to say, “Well, I probably wouldn’t if you didn’t stare at my chest all the time.” Instead I said nothing. Way to go, me.

Coffee time.

Is This a Joke?

You have to be kidding me.

Obama better win or all hell is going to break loose.