Detail of my new robe:


God, I have work in seven hours. Time for bed.

Up up and away!

Welcome to the Holiday Inn Express, Folks! Tonight our guests include DUI students, too many children under 5years old, and the Fifth Dimension!


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Up%2C_Up_and_Away

Yay! I’ve just spent the last twenty minutes telling the band where to find good Italian food in town. For some reason they’re all convinced that I can speak Italian and believe that I am the most highly regarded pizza expert in the West. I almost ruined it when I told them I was eating Donatos for dinner.

Type-9

Sarah (http://sarahetc.com/ -- I don't remember how to do LJcuts anymore) posted her type-9 test results a few days ago and because she's so damn awesome, I have to follow in her foot steps. And like you jie jie, I got a little bit creeped out when I began to read these.

To start off with, I'm a type 5-- "the thinker".

World View: The world is invasive and confusing. I need privacy to think.
Damn straight-- get away from me.

Basic Desire: to understand the world
Or at least the freakin' morons that populate it.

Basic Fear: of being overwhelmed by the world
Euh... maybe not so much, but read on, the rest is very true.

How to Get Along with Me: Be independent, not clingy.
Make me feel welcome, but not too intensely, or I might doubt your sincerity.
and my personal favorite...
Help me to avoid my pet peeves: big parties, other people's loud music, overdone emotions, and intrusions on my privacy.
PLEASE!

What I Like About Being a Five:
Being calm in a crisis.

What's Hard About Being a Five
Watching others with better social skills, but less intelligence or technical skill, do better professionally.

Gawd yes.

Prepare to be disgusted.

For those of you that don’t know already, I’ve got a thing with veins. I don’t want to see them, touch me, hurt them, talk about them, blog about them, etc, etc. Cotton balls and veins-- like my Achilles Heel. So, with that in mind, can you imagine how I felt when I saw this in my usual morning Kroger brand Chicken and Stars soup?



Yeah, those are chicken veins. *Gag* from a very vieny chicken. *Urp*



That shiny metal thing under the yuck is the wrapper to my poptart, the thing I opted to eat instead of vein soup.

(I apologize for the graphics, I don‘t have adobe Photoshop CS on my computer right now, I‘m working strictly with Paint).

Smooch.

Okay, I have to share something that’s pissing me off tonight-- what the hell is going on with all these damn historically/culturally accurate representations of momentous romantic badabums? Okay, you love her, she loves you, there was angst, now you hold hands, the sun sparkles, you breath deeply, lean in and then… you just bump foreheads? No! You’re supposed to kiss! Damn it! I don’t care if it wasn’t appropriate to kiss before marriage during the whoknowswhen-century, I want to see the kiss! I remember movies, oh so long ago, cared about the viewers and gave them the kiss no matter what historical sense it made. Okay, so it’s a movie about a romance in India, I can understand that it would perhaps not be appropriate in that culture to kiss before marriage, but it’s appropriate to me and I want to see the kiss. There is no climax-y love moment without it. Damn.

Pointless bits

I want:
A motorcycle.
A fencing buddy.
and another Betta.

I want:
To have more potted plants.
To have an internal soundtrack.
and to learn Kendo.

I wish:
Word press was easy.
That I traveled more often.
and that I could feel rested without sleep.

I’m going to:
Start stretching more often.
Studying more often.
and sleeping more often.

And for those of you interesting the cure for the common cold, please see the below diagram.



Aleve gives you heart attacks, trust me and my puttering little heart. Stick with Tylenol.