Riding in Cars with Facial Hair

What inspires me today...

Conspiracy theory

I know, I know, I haven't blogged in ages. I'm truly sorry, I was busy livingmylife, workingfulltime, postingunsellableitemsoncraigslist and gettingmarried. I know, no excuse.  I know what you are thinking. How am I ever going to redeem myself? (I know you are asking this in an irritated tone, but you keep reading because you are intrigued about what I will do to try, or somewhere deep down you still love me and want to give me a second chance. Either way...)  

My answer: by revealing an observation that has shaped the very way I see the world... Forever.

|| Observation ||

Drivers of classic cars are always (generally) white males over the age of 60 adorning a baseball hat and/or facial hair.

Look around, you'll see it. I know, it's a lot to take in. It's difficult to pull yourself together after your mind has been blown.. Hard to get your footing after such a paradigm shift..

"But Katie," you are stammering, trying to even remember how to formulate a cohesive sentence, "why does this matter?" 

Because, dear reader, it's something I knew but you didn't. And now you do. And that bonds us as friends. And your friendship means a lot to me.

|| Less significant observation ||  

Other people who wear baseball hats: 

• Baseball players
• Incognito celebrities 
• People who work at hot dog establishments
• President Obama

And with that, blog readers, I am back. 

The Jonah Hill of Dinner.

What inspires me today...

Unsung Heroes

It's Samwise Gamgee.

It's the Four Seasons.

It's Michelle Williams and Kelly Rowland.
It's David Hyde Pierce. 

It's The Edge. 

We all know them.  We all are pretty sure we love them, though we may need to google them in order to conjure up their face or exactly where we know their oh-so-familiar-tip-of-the-tongue name from.

They are... Supportive Roles. 

Roles that exist only to make higher-paid others look better.
(Lets face it. None of you bought Simply Deep.)

What I have noticed while living out on my own in the big wide world of having to grocery shop AND cook for myself, there are some basic foods you never want to buy.  This is because they don't sound appealing on their own, may take over 8 minutes to prepare, and you figure they will just rot since you would never watch a TV show titled "Niles."

Why did this show ever end?

Unfortunately... these specific foods are generally necessary to make delicious food delicious.

With that, I give you:

Stupid Food That Only Exists to Make Other Food Look Good

Without onions, soup would be hot water and kale would be chewy lettuce. 

(alt. Ketchup. Catchup.)

Sir. You. Yes, you. With the novelty t-shirt.  You would not put ketchup on your ketchup.

I understand that some people may disagree with this one. But drinking milk without cereal or coffee involved gives me the creeps.

Unless you live in Forks, Washington (That was a dumb joke), are suffering from high blood pressure, or have the plague.

Employment Gainings

What inspires me today...
Effective Strategy.

I have scoured countless libraries and the entirety of the internet*, but to no avail.  It has been months since the ad was placed on craigslist saying that the store I work at is hiring.  Since then, floods of young people have made their way through, and all of them seem to have read the same handbook on how to ensure unemployment.

Since I could not obtain a copy of this wise and highly effective guide myself, I decided to streamline the process in order to make it easier for early retirement seekers everywhere.

Without further adieu, I bring you...

Katie's Guide to Keeping the US Unemployment Rate at 9.2%

1. Don't make eye contact

This tactic is simple, effective, and a little creepy.  Your resume will just catch on fire. 

2. Make too much eye contact

This one is a little tricky, perhaps for the more experienced.  While charisma can help get you a job, too much can get you remembered for a more accurate and detailed account to the police sketch artist later.  

3. Bring in your baby

Self-explanitory.  The more colic the better. 

4. Request a large hourly rate for a job you have absolutely no experience in

For the more adventurous, this ignorant AND insulting double-whammy will snub a job before even reading the description. 

5. Neglect personal hygiene 

This tells a potential employer, "Yeah, this is what I smell like when I am trying to impress you." Highly effective.

6. Bring in any strange pets or hobbies you have

It's a fact, all people love snakes. 

7. Advertise your addictions 

Displaying a cigarette behind your ear and/or reeking of smoke is a way to show not tell an employer that you will be taking frequent breaks on company time.  Especially well used in a high-paced stressful work environment. 

8. Talk loudly about the reasons you weren't hired at other similar stores

An obvious strategy that is often overlooked.  However, when executed, 99% effective. 

And remember... Being a badass is way cooler then a steady job. 

BONUS TIP

I understand that many of you will be reading this in order to maintain a place on your parent's couch you have to at least look like you are making an effort towards employment.  Key phrases like: "Curse this economy!!" and "Gosh, it is so competitive out there, PhD's are required now for what the GED used to get you!" can go a long way.

*You must be thinking, "but Katie! What about bookSTORES?!?" I assure you, I had that idea as well.  However, when the construction barriers were removed from the storefront of both the Barnes & Noble and Borders in this town, moderately priced trendy clothing stores stood in their place.  The thumping techno beats being played on the grand opening sounded more like a big "I told you so" from Ray Bradbury to me.  

A month and some change.

What inspires me today...

Legendary Fowl

Well, a lot has changed since I last connected with you, dear readers.  My hair is a month and a half longer, my bike light was stolen, and the speakers in my computer mysteriously went silent.  Yes, friends, big things are happening.

Unfortunately, a travesty occurred in our midst while I was away.  This took place during the awards given by the elusive "academy."

Receiving a little naked gold man named "Oscar" seems a wee bit anticlimactic.

Once I searched the depths of my soul for the reason I was feeling such disdain towards the adult equivalent of a Kindergarten gold star in the "imagination" grade, the problem lay not with the institution of the Academy Awards.  In fact, I generally enjoy watching them, even playing the scoring game and getting overly competitive with my family over best achievement in sound mixing (Waterworld was robbed in '95).  However, this year, a dark cloud passed ominously over the Oscars.  Or perhaps a shadow, cast by the wings of a large, night-stalking bird of prey...

 

'Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole' did not receive a single award.  No, the magical owls received nary a single nomination.  I understand that every movie nowadays is in 3D, and sharing a special effect with "Never Say Never" and "Gnomeo and Juliette"(don't even get me started about that one...) is not quite the bragging right most filmmakers would jump at, but this is OWLS in the THIRD DIMENSION we are talking about.  Owls.  In 3D.

 

To quote Karen Krizanovich of Radio Times: "So what if the owls' beaks look weird and there's a lot of death, slavery and brainwashing? This is a breathtakingly beautiful film for courageous kids who aren't afraid of heights." 

 

Unfortunately, I am one of those cowardly individuals who gets vertigo on a step ladder, not to mention car sickness from any sort of 3D animation, so I did not see Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole.  I have heard it referenced before, however, so I think I deserve an opinion on the matter.  If Randy Newman can win an Oscar, than I think Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole has earned its naked man for the length of title alone. 

 

And they speak English with perfect diction... Take THAT King's Speech.

 

Time After Time.

What inspires me today...

Time Savers

Hello Friends.  Unfortunately, I have not been able to blog diligently as of late, due to my life being filled with more interesting things, such as (but not limited to):

• annotated bibliographies
• calling my mom
• writing critiques of a book critiquing critics

Thankfully, there is a new youtube channel I have found which shares some helpful tips into living life, tips that will give me that extra three minutes I've been searching for in order to do half of that six-minute-abs video I've been dying to try.

Her name: Grace Fitzpattrick.
Her job: Expert Village kitchen (mostly sink) expert.

 

She has many useful and time-saving talents, such as: 

• Washing more than one utensil at a time
• Washing your dish right after you use it
• How to unclog a drain 
• Sock puppeteer and ventriloquism 

You cannot make this stuff up.

Siskel and Ebert

What inspires me today...

Holiday Cinema

Surprisingly, I have been behind lately in my holiday movie watching.  This is unfortunate, because I have become intrigued by many of the names I see on the marquees as I drive by on the way to stare once again at the Boarders gift section in hopes of some last minute gift inspiration.  I have not, in fact, watched previews or read reviews for anything in theaters recently, but I think I can guess the plot and rate them all pretty accurately due to my experience in movie watching and general judgmental attitudes.

So here it is, Katie's Judging-A-Movie-By-The-Cover:

Black Swan

A coming-of-age story about a young bird who thinks she is ugly growing up.  Finally, she befriends and old badger who helps her to realize that she is in actuality a swan who has been living among ducklings.  She goes off in search of her flock, only to realize that she is still ugly since swans are supposed to be white.
Grade: B+

True Grit 

Rick Sloane's camp horror twist on an old classic.  Alternative title -- Fried Green Tomatoes II: Ruth's Revenge
 Grade: A

 Country Strong

Micheal Moore has had a change of heart recently, making a series of mini docu-dramas highlighting the different sects of the United States military. He really delves into the collective soul of patriots everywhere to find the true meaning of the saying, "these colors don't run."

Grade: D-

TRON: Legacy 

A Daft Punk soundtrack that sounds straight out of 1982, 3-D groundbreaking special effects, nostalgic throwbacks to 80's geek-dom, and thrilling sequences that still fall short of reconciling the contrived plot and hopeless dialogue. (You caught me. I saw this one last night.)

Grade: C

Well, there you have it.  Obviously there's no Avitar in our near future, but I think there may be some gems.  I will update this once I have seen all of these movies for the sake of proper journalism, but then again, I probably won't.

Sears

What inspires me today...

  Pneumatic Melodies.

Yes, it is true.  After an entire semester, I have created the perfect playlist to pulse through your ear buds under correct ear protective coverings.  That's right, the Power Tools Playlist is complete.

You are thinking, "Wow, bold statement. What gives you the authority/audacity to claim such an unthinkable feat?" or "I could do better."
And to these skeptics I say, you're probably right, but I'd like to see you prove it.

Here it is, the Power Tools Playlist:

1.  Bachelorette - Bjork
2.  Man of Constant Sorrow - Bob Dylan (cover)
3. Dress Sexy at my Funeral - Smog
4. Sinaloan Milk Snake Song - Mountain Goats
5. Are You Swimming in Her Pools? - Swan Lake

Trust me,  this perfect blend of beautiful yet harsh-to-the-ear croons make turning a hunk of alabaster into a buffalo head to mount on your living room wall a breeze.  No one will accuse any of these artists of being necessarily "good" singers, but that is just the edge that will keep you going through the crucial sawing and grinding process.

Advice:
Don't listen to new Iron and Wine. You will cut your hand it's so awesome.
Don't listen to the Ting Tings either. They're terrible.

you belong with me - m4w - 28

What inspires me today...

At first sight.

A bizarre habit of mine is to absentmindedly click through a few of my tabbed items on my toolbar.  Here I find many treasures, such as rotten tomatoes, my bank account, my email, an assortment of blogs, news stations, a few music sites, ebay, and of course... Craigslist.

It's no secret that I love Craigslist.  I've even posted before about Craigslist.  It's a strange and fascinating obsession.  

For a while I was searching for a job.  I found a job, thanks Craigslist.  Then I needed a bike.  Once I found that, the natural progression was to look for a stalker.  Yes, I thought the "Casual Encounters" section was funny for a time, but then things got pretty real when I discovered "Missed Connections" just a few links down.

I'm just waiting for the day when I click on "Girl at Ralphs" and it's not talking about the blond in soccer warm-ups ahead of you in line.  One day it will be the brunette who has oatmeal, black beans, and that weird bargain fruit that is about to go bad in her basket.  One day...

Until then, I will just enjoy the sweet sentiments of these mini poetic declarations of missed true love.

Example: "Ahhh, love is an anthropologist's rubiks cube." 

Or this gem: "You know who you are. You probably know who I am. You know where you were, and you know you saw me at those same places."

I emailed that one back.  Sounds like we have a lot in common.

Tofurkey

What inspires me today...

brown paper packages tied up with string

In light of the just passed holiday on November the 25th, I would like to wish everyone the happiest of Ben Stein's birthday.

Things I am thankful for:

Not having strep throat anymore
Self-explanatory.  Thanks Penicillin.

Four times a day, every day.

Family
The thing about holidays is, they're really family time.  Even if your community is like family in many ways, they all end up going to be with their own respective families.  They are also not your family.  Though this recent Thanksgiving weekend, by normal weekend standards, stands as a pretty good one, it made for a tad depressing Thanksgiving.

Kindles
My eldest sister bought me a Kindle for my birthday.  At first I thought, "what?" next I pondered, "why?" then finally realized, "yes."  Upon discussing the complex thought process behind purchasing a kindle, it made sense because if I were to be any electronic item, it would be a Kindle.  This decision was reached because a Kindle is not touch-screen and full of "Apps" like an iPhone or iPad, it's a little off and awkward as far as electronics go, and all you can do with it is read books.
Perfect.
And though I haven't gotten past the set-up screen, the fact that I've charged it already is a big step.

just like paper!

Friends
Though stressful returning to school after a brief period of semi-isolation, time apart makes me realize that I really do like people.


Kid Cudi
I like the song "Pursuit of Happiness" and all that it has brought into my life.

Well... He makes nice music at least.

Strangers
It's interesting how honest you can be with someone you're likely never to see again.  With the exception of airplanes, I never seem to sit next to the interesting bio-engineer who has figured out the secret behind cryogenics.  Rather, it's always the disgruntled business man or criminally insane guy rocking back and forth while singing who I get stuck by.

Iron & Wine
His new EP "Walking Far From Home" has thus far changed my life and the way I listen to music.




What are you thankful for?

Makes you weak all in your knees.

What inspires me today...

The sick bed.

Having taken ill for the past two weeks, I've had no choice but to come to a natural and well-founded conclusion: sickness was invented by the Vicks corporation.

To take a quick stock in what I have consumed in the past 14 days:

1 bottle of DayQuil
1 bottle of NyQuil
1 bottle of Robitussin
2 NyQuil tablets
1 bottle of Tylenol Cold syrup
4 Sudafed tablets
9 cups of throat coat tea
3 cups of cold care tea
1 cup of nasty homemade ginger concoction
2 Thereflu packets
1 Gingerbread tea latte

1 bag of echinacea cough drops

Staying home from work to catch up on every show I've ever watched an episode of: priceless.

While most illnesses end with going to the doctor, and enjoying a slow progression upwards, mine saw a doctor mid-way, then began a quick spiral down.  I'm going back to that sadist tomorrow to give him a piece of my mind through hand gestures and a frown.

Things I never really thought about, but now realized I have been taking for granted: 

1. The ability to swallow.

2. The ability to speak.

Things that I could have, according to WebMD: 

1. A common cold

2. Scarlet Fever

3. Thyroid cancer

4. Mumps

So, dear ones, before tucking yourself into bed tonight, remember these profound words of advice: Ignorance is bliss when trying to look out for your mental health and avoid having a panic attack from the possibility of influenza.

Worry, worry, super-scurry...

What inspires me today...

New Heights.

I hate surprises.

I usually find that the joy and rush of adrenaline most feel coursing through their veins when faced with a good 'ol surprise is replaced with a bone-chilling dread.  A sort of hybrid of anxiety and terror. 

Surprise parties are the worst.
Generally I become very quiet.  Happy, but fully unable to interact.  Sometimes I cry.

Number 8 on my bucket list was satisfied Saturday morning by a complete and utter surprise at 2:30 in the morning.   After a four hour drive and instant confusion when faced with a white van with the tinted windows bearing worn and peeling lettering reading, "Magical Adventures," a giant wicker basket in tow, I still had no idea what was going on.  The tarps were laid out, and finally giant colorful bundles were unrolled...

Mixing a fear of heights with a hatred for surprises made for a shockingly delightful birthday.

Mike, the pilot, and I wore matching denim shirts.  I think we hit it off pretty well.  He was in his late fifties, a retired air force pilot who has been flying balloons for over 20 years.  Clearly he wanted a photo of he and I on his iPhone after the champagne toast prior to the completion of our aviation feat.  Clearly I obliged.

Excuse me, I misspoke earlier.  You cannot "fly" a hot air balloon.  You simply float, at the mercy of the wind.  Interestingly, this seemingly terrifying concept made for a very calm and peaceful experience.  There wind simply carried us.  No turbulence in fight, none of the worry or fear you may find in a plane (where you supposedly have full control).  Landing spots aren't planned ahead of time, just found.   Maybe life is flight, and maybe the ride would be more enjoyable if we all just learned to float.

Or maybe we should all wear more denim and drink more champagne.

Either way, both options would drastically improve the state of the world.

(I have truly amazing friends.)

Tertiary Tributary

What inspires me today...

Coincidence vs Chaos 

A few things of note from the past week: 

1. They (scientists) recently found 50-million-year-old bugs encased in amber in the Indian rainforest. 
2. Friday October 22nd was the actor Jeff Goldblum's birthday.  This year he turned a whopping 58 years of age. 

These two seemingly unrelated facts may seem uninteresting and useless... to the untrained eye.

Let me teach you a lesson, dear readers, in critical thinking about things that really don't matter or make much sense.

Not only were they (scientists) able to extract perfectly preserved 50-million-year-old bugs using toluene and chloroform due to the unique soft nature of the Indian amber, dating the rainforest back before the Miocene as originally speculated, placing it as over 60-million-years-old, and Jeff Goldblum has now grown one year closer to the obscurity we have all been anticipating since his small-screen debut on Law and Order: Criminal Intent...

BUT 

these two strands of information are actually more closely circulating then we could ever imagine.

I saw these at first as completely coincidental, but looking closely at the teachings of chaos theory, nothing is random.  It is all deterministic, yet completely unpredictable.

True fans may have predicted by now the juncture where chaos theory has brought Jeff Goldblum to insects encased in amber....

 boom...boom...

...a 1990 novel written by Michael Chriton adopted in 1993 into the Steven Spielberg motion picture "Jurassic Park." 

We all know what this means.

A wealthy billionaire and dinosaur enthusiast will clone the dinosaur DNA found within a mosquito from the amberand create an island theme park on an island near Cosa Rica, with the main attraction being, you guessed it, dinosaurs (all female, of course) where a couple anthropologists, their bratty kids, and a researcher will get stuck while the gates are opened as a bumbling research tech tries to steal embryos for [insert generic rival corporation name] and make a couple bucks. 
They will survive, barely, just in time to make a sequel and eventually a trilogy. 

Let's hope this doesn't happen again (and again, and again, and again).

 

I'm not saying that I'm not curious to see what it would be like to ride around on a triceratops, obviously that is an ideal situation.  I'm just stating that although it would seem to be a hilarious and thoughtful gesture to create dinosaurs for Jeff's birthday, it would be ill-conceived and a little insensitive. We all (no one) saw Jurassic Park III.  Goldblum doesn't make an appearance. 

A world with dinosaurs but without Jeff Goldblum is a world I want no part it.

But, as the ever insightful Dr. Ian Malcolm says, "I'm simply saying that life, uh... finds a way."

Land of Milk and...

What inspires me today...

Bee attitudes. 

Remember a few years back when you couldn't turn on the news without hearing about the mysterious disappearance of the honey bee, but didn't hear another word about it in the media because someone was assassinated/a war started/some oil spilled in Mexico?

I will play the part of news provider by filling all of you out there, chomping at the bit, in to know what happened in the honey bee saga.

The name of the problem:
Colony Collapse Disorder.

There are many theories and factors thought to cause CCD, but clearly my favorite (quickly proven false) theory would have to be: 

Cell phone radiation interfering with their homing techniques.

"Why should I care about half the honey bee population dying suddenly and in mass quantities?"  
You may, but probably won't, ask.
How does $15 million in crop value sound? 
You have no idea what that means or why that is the case.
It's not good.  And pollination.

The factors thought by most to be causing this phenomenon: a spreading harmful pathogen and pesticides.  These cause an immune-deficiency disorder.

Bee AIDS is real.

Think about that the next time you're sucking honey straight from the bear.

Plots thickening.

What inspires me today...

Toothpaste.

Why I thought it was a good/socially acceptable/within all the societal norms I've been socialized into/normal situation to answer the door this morning in my pj's mid-brushing of my teeth, I will never know.

I was too excited to have a visitor, there was no time to spit and set my toothbrush on the side of the sink.

The Fedex man seemed unfazed.  Time to step up my game.

(Note: my pj's this particular morning consisted of over-sized drawstring red shorts and an old cut up shirt.  Hair in a VERY high bun.  I was looking about 40%.)

Magnets, how do they work?

What inspires me today...

Miracles.

Juggalos.
Jugalettes.

These are the names given to and worn proudly by fans/followers/henchmen/apostles of the Michigan-based hip hop group Insane Clown Posse (ICP for short).

Helpful and Necessary Visual Aid

Why do they all dress like gothic clowns?  Why would anyone listen to something dubbed as "horrorcore"? How would one go about getting involved in Juggalo Championship Wrestling?  What brand of face paint is best for Juggalo/ette impersonation?  Is that what love looks like?

These are all questions.

Maybe you have been faced with Jugalo culture recently while reading the Twitter posts of myspace icon and reality television celebrity, Tila Tequila.  If not, there is hope for humanity.

So, what is the first thought when trying to launch you and your friends' new indie-pop band via youtube?  

Indie-pop band name: Taken by Trees (could've guess that one.)

Answer: Acoustic cover of the ICP song Miracles.  Clearly.

Normal Situation.

My favorite gems from this song: 

"We don't have to be high to look in the sky"

"The Milky Way and f***ing shooting stars"

"Look at the mountains, trees, the seven seas and everything chilling underwater, please"

"There's enough miracles here to blow your brains"

"F***ing magnets, how do they work?"

"I fed a fish to a pelican at Frisco bay, it tried to eat my cell phone, he ran away"

Pure poetry.

Obviously I prefer the original, but that's just because Faygo tastes so much sweeter in baggy pants and face paint.

The slow luxury of reeling one another in.

What inspires me later in the night...

Poems (read every word.)

In the story my aunt tells, this is how they met.
It's September, the war just over,
the air crisp as the creases in my father's khaki pants,
bright as his Bronze Star,
pungent as the marigold my mother tucks behind one ear,
the night they both sign up
for dance lessons "the Arthur Murray way"
at the Statler Hotel in downtown Philly.

He's there to meet girls,
of that I am certain,
and she's there for romance,
though I don't think that's what she would say,
both of them looking for something as intangible as the cigarette smoke
that rises in old, deckle-edged photos—
everyone tough, glamorous, vampy.

Perhaps there are dance cards?
Or maybe partners are assigned?
The truth is, no one really knows
about the moment when their glance
catches and snags across the room,
a fishline pulling taut as they place their feet
on Murray's famous "magic footsteps,"
and start the slow luxury of reeling one another in.
Music spills from a scratchy Victrola
as she places her hand on his shoulder,
feels the slight pressure of his palm against her back,
and they begin to move together,
her hesitant steps following
his over-enthusiastic swings,
until they are both lost in "The More I See You"
or "I Don't Want to Walk Without You Baby,"
the future stretching out before them
like a polished oak dance floor.

I don't know if they went back for more lessons,
or how they learned to dip and twirl and slide together,
though I once saw my father spin my mother completely around—
her skirt flaring out around her like the bell of a silk lamp shade—
just months before she died.
It's their story
after all,
the one with a secret hidden deep inside it
like all love stories—
bigger than we are or will ever be—
music from a Big Band coming up in the background,
playing "You'd Be So Nice to Come Home To,"
while our parents swoop and glide
in the spotlight, keeping back
just enough of the story to make us wonder.

[My Parents' Dance Lessons 1945 - Alison Townsend]

I'm sorry I was late.
I was pulled over by a cop
for driving blindfolded
with a raspberry-scented candle
flickering in my mouth.
I'm sorry I was late.
I was on my way
when I felt a plot
thickening in my arm.
I have a fear of heights.
Luckily the Earth
is on the second floor
of the universe.
I am not the egg man.
I am the owl
who just witnessed
another tree fall over
in the forest of your life.
I am your father
shaking his head
at the thought of you.
I am his words dissolving
in your mind like footprints
in a rainstorm.
I am a long-legged martini.
I am feeding olives
to the bull inside you.
I am decorating
your labyrinth,
tacking up snapshots
of all the people
who've gotten lost
in your corridors.

[Compulsively Allergic to the Truth - Jeffrey McDaniel]

On button.

What inspires me today...

Power.

It's true.  I haven't blogged in quite a while.  I've probably lost both of my readers.  Oh well, you two probably had better things to do anyway.

The truth is, school leaves little time for meandering thoughts and rants about nothingness.  Instead, all of my otherwise misdirected energy has to be molded and shaped for the future of this great country/world.  I have to actually support my arguments "logically" and "be reasonable."  It's throwing off my entire vibe.

So, to not completely abandon the internet, which has entertained me so well these past few years, I offer this fleeting thought from stone sculpture (ironically the one class that allows for little to no thought):

I love power tools.

We had our test on safety gear, grinders, and pneumatic hammers, picked out our stones at the yard where middle-aged people gather in outside makeshift stalls to "create," and finally, it was time to carve.

At first I was intimidated by their awesome ability, speed, and soul-splitting noises, but now that I have fully realized and harnessed that sheer power, I can't stop thinking about them.  In comparison, everything else leaves something to be desired.  And that something is a motor and need for oil.

Sleuthing.

What inspires me today:
Lactose.

At the risk of sounding hip, I buy almond or rice milk.  To clarify, I am not a cool vegan, my intestines are just intolerant towards poor old lactose.  

When my family buys milk at home, we go big.  Gallon jugs for us.
I get non-fat because I don't like chewing my drinks.

With all that seemly useless knowledge about personal preferences on milk-like beverages now in your brain, imagine my surprise when my housemate brought home an actual.milk.carton.  On it there was a logo, farm name, nutrition facts, a little game to play, and even a barcode.

My question/source of confusion and worry: What happened to the missing children side of the box?

 Drop your cereal, we've got crime to solve! 

I feel like I remember "winding up on the side of a milk carton" to be a legitimate fear in my not-so-distant past, so I'm wondering how long ago they decided this wasn't an effective way of getting that sort of news out.  The world would like to know.

Wiki wiki

What inspires me today...

Ghosts

I love ghost stories.  I am not believing them fully as fact just yet, but come on, some of them are pretty convincing.  White powder footprints, stacks of pennies, music not able to be played in certain rooms, hand prints appearing on mirrors, blood spots on fireplaces that appear time and time again after being cleaned...  And those are just from one person who heard it from their friend whose sister actually experienced it!

Improbable: Yes.

Impossible: I'm not a scientist.

Awesome: Without a doubt.

Regardless, what made me start this ramble is that someone in Proidencia, Chile read my blog yesterday.  

"¡Tenemos un zoológico!"

Now, if you are currently on Wikipedia right now (as you should be) search the city of Providencia, Chile and scroll to the bottom of the page (which isn't far, there isn't much going on in that city, apparently).  Here you will see the list of notable residents.  

Pablo Neruda is one of these residents of note. 

Why this is important/matters/not as random as you think: early on in my extensive and highly respected/admired blogging career (a few months back) I posted a Neruda poem.  In response, I wrote a small poem of my own.  It was a short and sweet sentiment, but with dire consequences.  

The facts are clear:  Pablo Neruda's ghost is haunting my blog.

Other fun facts about Providencia, Chile:

• Large upper-middle-class population
• Has a Teleférico, or an aerial gondola
• Has an embassy of Italy, France, Russia, China, and Uruguay 
• There is a 22m statue of the Virgin Mary

Wikipedia has WAY more information on ghosts than Providencia, Chile.  Since Wikipedia is the authority on everything, and Providencia has been verified as "existing," then I have no reason to doubt the existence of ghosts.  The logic is flawless and the evidence is overwhelming.

Can I keep you?

Dear liza, a hole.

What inspires me today...

Buckets.

I will admit, this post is not of original inspiration.  One of my dear friends created a bucket list today, and suggested that I should do the same.  Since I now have a reader who is mildly interested in what I would place on a "bucket list," and since I love a good list just as much as the next gal... here it is.

50 things I would like to accomplish before I kick the bucket (in no particular order): 

1. Watch every movie on this list
2. Read every book on these lists
3. Visit/live in SE Asia
4. Hike the Pacific Crest Trail
5. Participate in La Tomatina
6. See at least 30 of America's largest roadside attractions
7. Take in a foster child
8. Ride in a hot air balloon
9. Attend the hot air balloon races in Albuquerque 
10. Learn a new language proficiently 
11. Tell all the influential teachers in my past how much I appreciate them
12. Learn a musical instrument 
13. Win at bingo
14. Ask for a raise
15. Learn to sail
16. Build a piece of furniture
17. Take the Trans-Siberian Railway from Moscow to Vladivostok
18. Become an expert in something unexpected
19. Surf
20. Hike through the Zion Narrows in Utah
21. Do the Master Cleanse
22. Make my own clothes
23. Hike the Inca Trail in Peru
24. Go Spelunking
25. Ride in a helicopter 
26. Live alone
27. Attend the inauguration of a US President 
28. Visit the Sistine Chapel
29. Milk a cow
30. Be debt free
31. Have something published
32. Start a collection
33. Learn the constellations
34. Read the Bible cover to cover
35. Learn how to cook
36. Visit the wonders of the world
37. Grow my own fruit and vegetables
38. Visit the top ten US lighthouses
39. Learn to flyfish 
40. Go snowboarding
41. Hike the Tongariro Circuit in New Zealand
42. Tour Ann Frank's house
43. Learn how to cut hair professionally
44. Give a large amount of money anonymously to a charity or non-profit
45. Build an appreciation for jazz
46. Cross a country by bicycle
47. Talk to Sam Beam
48. Safari 
49. See all the big world monuments (eifle tower, big ben, pyramids, dome of the rock...)
50. Eat at Falafel's Drive-In in San Jose

There are so many more things I could put on there, but I will spare you and cut it off at 50.
And now, a rant.  

Why do they call it "kicking the bucket" anyway?  Where is the mystical bucket, and which religion requires that it be kicked in order to enter the great beyond?  If there is to be any cosmic item to be kicked it should be a can, in my humble opinion. 

Further research on the subject proved very informative.