Have I mentioned that I LOVE having insurance?  I haven't had insurance EVER in my life until this job.  So yeah...I've been to more doctors in the last few months than I have most of my life.

So, on Wednesday, I got myself a gift using that lovely insurance.  A big fat hole in my face!

For years, I've hated the moles on my face.  Namely, this one:

So I got it chopped off.  For the bargain price of $30 (thank you, kind doctor, for calling it abnormal so insurance will pay). 

Instead of one mole, I have one black stitch, which is already healing nicely.  And, as amazing as it sounds, it never hurt.  The night I did it, it felt like a little paper cut or something, but nothing close to what I'd imagined.

Next Wednesday I get my stitch removed.  Then on March 6th?  I get another hole in my face.  Right here:

I'm beyond thrilled!!

The doc said it will heal perfectly by the time the wedding rolls around, so you won't be able to tell there was anything even there. 

So, Happy Valentine's Day, self.  You look mahvelous!!

P.S.  3 months, 2 weeks and 3 days until I'm a wife.  Woot-Woot!

Hey, remember that one time I showed you a picture of me as a baby and it made you threw up a little but you said it was just a bad picture and that I was probably really cute?

Sorry.  You were wrong.

And we won't even talk about the later years.

The Boyfriend and I are leaving on our first roadtrip today!

They say the first real test of a relationship is the first vacation.  I'm tellin' ya.  We haven't even left the house and I'm shocked he's not strangled to death yet.  My hands...they're reaching....so....close....

We'll be back Monday!

At least...I'll be back.  He might not make it quite that long.

Good afternoon. Chase's attorney here. I am making my second appearance here at Taste The World to cover some important legal matters.  I appreciate your attention.  (My first appearance can be found here) 

My client, Ms.Chase, has brought to my attention the fact that she is "SO totally over it" with several people and has asked for my assistance in the matter.  Therefore, on behalf of Ms.Chase, I demand each named party to read, understand, and comply with my client's requests.

As for count number 1 (one), my client offers that she is SO totally over Ellen dancing through the audience on her talk show. 

According to my client's recollection, it was "cute" the first few times but soon became "freaking annoying" and "totally gimicky".  My client demands Ellen stop already, and adds an emphatic "SERIOUSLY" to her final statement.

As for count number 2 (two), my client offers that she is SO totally over Maroon 5.  

My client purchased an album titled "Songs About Jane" in 2002 and enjoyed it, but after 5 years of nothing new, has become "so effing bored" with the band and the "girly whine ass" voice of Adam Levine.  (By the way, releasing 2 CDs, one "live" and one "acoustic", rehashing the same songs from the first album and calling them "NEW"?  Not-so-freaking-much.  Legally speaking.)  My client demands you to "shut up" because "too little, too late, buddy."

Finally, as for count number 3 (three), my client offers that she is SO totally over all this rain. 

My client is attempting to complete a job outside and the rain is not helping her receive a paycheck.  According to the forcast (as offered in the evidence below):

,

my client is going to "get totally screwed again" next week.  My client hereby demands "MORE SUNSHINE, DAMMIT!!!"

In closing, I would like to say, on behalf of my client, Ms.Chase, that each named party shall respond to each demand forthwith.  If response is not received in a timely and appropriate manner, we will not hesitate to take this matter to the appropriate authorities. 

And by 'authorities', I mean 'I'll bitch more on the blog because that's all I got, yo.'

Further sayeth naught.

If you're wondering, no, I did not get my ass kicked by Bikram Yoga.  Actually, if you know anything about me, you know that I didn't even show up to Bikram Yoga.

HA!  Like I'd follow through on anything.

After I wrote the last post, I remembered how much I hate the heat.  And then I remembered that I live in Oklahoma and, OH YEAH, hate the humidity even more.  I'm painting the outside of a house right now, so working out in the, um, heat and humidity for 8 hours. 

I just didn't think I would enjoy paying to get tortured in a room that already reminded me of how much work sucks. 

I'm just saying.

Tomorrow evening, I'm going with a friend to do some Bikram Yoga.  Basically, they stick you in an oven and tell you to put your feet behind your head.  Or something like that. 

90 minutes of 26 yoga poses.  The room is heated to 105 degrees.  And then they crank up the ol' humidity to, oh, about 50%.  Let me do some calculations, here....

...

...

...that will make the room a balmy...

...

...

14,000 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT!

I actually looked up a heat index chart to see about how hot it would be.  You wanna know what it said?  It said RED.  Seriously - it blocked out that space and every space after 45% humidity and warned that a heat stroke was HIGHLY LIKELY and to STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ANYTHING THAT HOT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BECAUSE WHO WOULD DO THAT TO THEMSELVES YOU FREAKING MASOCHIST?!...

If you don't see me around for awhile, send a search party to Tulsa.  Tell them to look for a body with one leg wrapped around its upper torso, a water bottle permanently attached to its face, and lying in a puddle of (what we hope is) sweat.

God rest my soul.

Preacher's last words of the Mother's Day service today:

"You can hang around here if you want, but if you hurry and get outta here, you can beat the Methodists to Luby's!"

Psssst.  Guess what?

Ya know how I joked in my last post that I was going to do some Bible study at the football game? 

Well, we were sitting there, watching the game, and guess who sits down in the aisle next to us? Go ahead...guess.  You'll totally never guess.

This man:

Anyone know who that is?   'Tis none other than Richard Roberts...the son of Oral Roberts.

Lord a'mercy!

Look at me!  I found teh internets!

Hey, guess what?  Working during the day + hot boyfriend at night = NO CHASEY BLOGGY.  Who knew?!

Let's see...what's been going on?

I'm still in Tulsa (I think this makes week 3?  So much for moving out of state, huh?).  I've been working my ass off.  I keep getting painting job offers here (4 new big ones in the last 2 days, all of which pay about three times what the upcoming interview job in Texas would pay.  Decisions! Ack!).  Boyfriend is ready to tie me up and never let me leave again.  I'm ready to let him.

Hmmm. What else?

Oh.  The fatso beagle ate a whole brand new container of Pupperoni today.  And then proceeded to throw it all back up.  So that was fun.

Ahem.

So yeah, that's about all I have to say.  I'd better go, the boyfriend is home.  And you all know what that means.

(Ok, so it really means that it's time for him to lay down and take a nap so he can get up and go to work at 2am while it's time for me to watch Friends reruns and then go get some fast food because I don't feel like cooking...but...whatever.)

• A big ol' Oreo Blast from Sonic.
• Getting a call for an interview in Texas - FINALLY.
• Having the dog throw up outside and not on the couch. Unlike last time.
• Hearing someone call American Idol's Sanjaya "Mangina".
• Knowing The Boyfriend was just kidding when he said we can honeymoon in Branson. Ahem.
• But mostly...this picture:

[via]

Hi. 

Girl in the red Taurus here.

I'm a softy, it's true.  If I'm at your corner/stoplight and have a dollar - even if it's my very last dollar - it's a pretty safe bet you'll get it if you're standing outside, holding a cardboard sign and looking even the least bit helpless. 

Now, I'm not stupid. I know not all beggars are on the up and up, but some really are...some really could use a dollar for a burger.  And my not knowing how to really tell the difference between the needy and the greedy is going to make me do my usual and simply trust you.

With that said, I'd like to say thank you personally, Mr. 71st Street Guy, for giving me no doubt about which kind you were, what with you just standing there, back against a phone pole, half-assed holding your "God Bless" sign, laughing and chatting away on your skinny, sexy little cell phone that was SO obviously more expensive than the one even I could afford.

May your reception be fuzzy and your battery die before you can finish setting up your pedicure appointment.

Hmph.

You see that over there in my sidebar?  Yeah, the "daily" post thingy that was written on Valentine's Day?  Heh.

And you see the post below this?  The one that was written 8 days ago?  (And that's not even written, per se...that I just copied a video code and called it good?)  Heh.  YEAH.

I haven't forgotten about ye olde blog - though I'm sure you all have.   HI!  I'm Chase!!  Come back!!

I've been in Tulsa the last couple of weeks.  I've been working (I have some money finally! Yay!) and making out hanging out with my man who, oddly enough, hasn't yelled at me to get out of his house yet, despite my throwing my clothes all over the place, using all his fabric softener, and having my dog poop in his house not just once, but THREE times.  

He loves me.  Despite what he says.

In short, I've not had much computer time at all.  And, really, telling you all about how I painted a 30-foot-tall wall at work isn't all the exciting anyway.  Unless you're into that sorta thing.

So that's about all I have to report. 

I did just find out I'm getting my 3 boxes of Girl Scout Cookies tonight that I ordered from Chilihead's daughter.   And that, my friends?  Is just about the best news I could ever give ya.

Thin Mints, here I come.

A friend of mine had a motorcycle.  Anytime she was on it and passed another motorcycle, they'd both stick their arms out at each other and do that Cool Kid Head Nod thing.  I've seen this a lot with bikes...anytime they pass another, they acknowledge the other riders by basically saying "You totally rock like I do, yo."

The Boyfriend drives a silver Acura.  Yesterday, while leaving Best Buy, another silver Acura was pulling in and the guy was waving and doing the Cool Kid Head Nod thing. Boyfriend was thrilled and waved back, saying, "HEYYYYYY!!!!"  They pointed to each other's cars and laughed with glee. 

So I thought, hey, I'll give it a shot, too!  I mean, it feels great to belong to the cool group, yeah?  Unfortunately, I'm finding out that when you drive a four-door 2001 Ford Taurus, the other ladies don't want to play that game.  They just speed by pretending they don't see you excitedly waving and pointing at them.

Those bitches.

It's been, what? 745 days since my last post?  And I still have nothing fun to report. 

I went to Tulsa for a few days and had a great time with J.  But now I'm back home in COLDASS Texas.  I'm calling and filling out applications and searching, but I'm still without a job. (And therefore quickly running out of money! GAK!)  I'm really funny and bright and stuff...but OH YEAH, I'm really not.

So, I'll just do what I do best.  I'm stealing an idea from another blogger...this time from the lovely Tracey.

A List Of Things I Cannot Do:

• Say the words "hay bale" without GREAT effort (I just tried it outloud...it was 'bay hell' 'hay hale' 'hell bay' and 'bay bell' for about 10 tries)
• Snap my fingers (although I can do this!)
• Pop a balloon (it makes me wanna vomit, ok?)
• Eat oranges (allergic to all citrus...how suckass is that?)
• Resist peeling fingernail polish off (I clear-coated my nails last night...it's already all gone)
• Type the word "celebrate" quickly (watch : cellabe claelbea ceablera ceava cevlevb...see?!)

What easy stuff can't you do?

(And by easy stuff, I don't mean popping a balloon because THAT? That is just dangerous.  It could totally...pop...and stuff.)

I'm in Tulsa visitng J this weekend and we start talking about our relationship:

J: See, this is what I bring to our relationship.  <he builds a perfectly aligned, evenly proportioned structure, using several boxes of soap>  And this is what you bring to the relationship.  <he bellows "AAAARRRRRRR!!!!!" and knocks the boxes off the table with a sweep of his arm>

Oh, yeah. He loves me.

Dear Google searcher from Boston,

I can tell you all that you need to know right now.  The fact that you are searching for "vagania pictures" is the reason you're only seeing them in pictures.  And your spelling abilities aren't really even the issue here.

Love, Chase

 --------------------

Someone sent me this email after reading my post about puberty : 

i am 17 now i have kinda hit puberty but as of last year i was the little kid at school i was like 5'1 and had a small weiner and everyone else at school has big huge dongs like 6inches but anyway i had a high voice and everything but this summer that just passed i grew a lot i am noe 5"8 my voice is deep but my wang is like 5 inhes but not big diameter that is where the kinda comes in like i have hair down there and everything armpit hair all the works but am i gunna be stuck with this small wang? if i am that sucks because i have girls that like me but i don't want to get to serious because i am afraid they will make fun of my weiner but if they really like u  should they care how big u r and way that story reminds me of what happened to me. thanks

Dear "Hair Down There",

Use of "weiner" twice : check.

Use of "wang" twice : check.

Use of "dong" twice : *BUZZZZZZZZZ*

Oooooh, sorry, kid.  I can't help you if you don't follow the Rules of Emailing Chase.  Everyone MUST use dong twice in all my emails, no matter what.  Ohhh well.  Hey, by the way, have you met that kid from Boston?  I bet you guys would get along great!

Love, Chase

---------------------

Any other questions? 

Just curious. 

Are any of you people out there in marriages/relationships with someone who is of a different faith than you?  What about faith vs. non-faith relationships?

If so, how do you deal with that in your relationship?  Talk each side and respect the other's beliefs?  Just not talk about hot buttons?  Ignore the fact and say 'faith? what faith? who said that?' 

What about the kids, if you have any?  Do you teach them one faith over the other?  Teach them about each side? Give up and just teach them to be heathens?

Indulge me, here. 

KTHNXBAI!

Since the show "Identity" started playing, I've gotten about a bazillion google hits for "how tall is Penn Jillette?"

Here we are together in Vegas. I'm 5'7" so I'm thinking that makes him right around 15'4".

When I showed up in Texas this weekend, this is the t-shirt my brother was wearing.  Methinks we'll get along juuuust fine.

Last weekend, I went to a local steakhouse for dinner.  It was the kind of place that has dead animal heads on the walls and mounds of lawsuit-ready peanut shells on the floor.  After our meal, they gave us the 'if you call and do our survey, you'll get $3 off your next meal!' thing.  So, because it was utterly delish, a couple of days later I called to get my special code. 

The recording said something like they knew surveys suck, so they'd try to make this one quick and FUN!.  How they did that is to only ask 4 questions...and to have their voice person use a Texas(?) accent.  If you ask me, the girl on the recording went totally overboard on her excitment about landing this gig...but I digress.

The hillbilly-hick-cowgirl on the recording explained that, since they were FUN!, they would use a scale of peanuts to rate the service/food.  One peanut was bad...four peanuts were good.  You get the picture.

However, apparently, they didn't actually LISTEN to the recording after making it, because, um, when a girl with a bad hick accent says the word 'peanuts' over and over?  Mmmhmmm...sounds an awful lot like 'penis'. 

I could barely rank my experience because I was doing so using the FUN! Penis Scale.  Being one who wants to save $3, I braved my way through it and ranked the temperature of my food with four penis, but I couldn't stop giggling about it.

At the end, I got my code.  But...the kicker?  At the end of the recording, the hickchick said, "Thaaank ya fer doin' are survaay. We hope to see ya flickin' yer penis peanuts at Steakhouse again reeel soon."

Ahhhh, yes.  FUN! indeed.

Happy Needless Turkey Murder Day*, everyone!

What I'm thankful for:

• getting a big paycheck RIGHT before the holiday and getting it JUST in time to cash it before the banks all close
• that guy who, for an unknown reason, moved to let me go first at the bank drive-thru, because my car was totally running on fumes and SO could have stalled while waiting in that line
• my first homemade cheesecake** turned out AMAZING! 
• all you people in my life who make me feel golden - I love you
• beagle toes that smell like corn chips (go ahead and go smell your dog's feet, I swear they'll smell like corn chips.  No really, try it.)
• my Bubba, who will soon have the most beautiful, intelligent, funny, awe-inspiring roommate*** in the universe
• my Bubba again, for having the house built, like, 10 minutes from an Ikea
• so much food in my face, I won't even be able to walk later (though waddling and/or rolling is always a viable option)
• new brakes on my car! Ones that work! Ones that don't make me think I'm going to die in a firey crash because my steering wheel shook so hard it fell off and made me crash into a tree!
• The Prestige because OH.MY.GOD.
• I'm saying cheesecake again because, um, I totally made a cheesecake from scratch. Not only that, I made a LEMON cheesecake with gingersnap crust!  I'm so freaking awesome.****

*Friends? Phoebe? Anyone? No? I watch my DVDs too much?

**I say amazing, but this is before I've even cut into the middle of it, where it may just big a big puddle of eggs and raw cream cheese goop....god help me and anyone else who eats it....but at least it LOOKS yummy, eh?

***Bubba closes on the house in, like, 5 days, people. Pictures soon!

****Again, haven't actually TRIED the cheesecake.  When it sucks later, I'll be sure to NOT tell you. You just keep on thinking that I'm awesome, mmkay?

So, I pull up to the gas station today and as soon as I get out of my car, I hear "MMMMM MMMMM!!!" all obvious and gross-like.  I ignore it and scoot toward the store to pay.  Before I reach the door, I hear, "hey, girl!  HEY!" and I look over.  A guy is sitting in his car and smiles all pervvy and says "Hi...how YOU doin?"

Yeah. Totally Joey. But without all the charm. Or looks. Or anything remotely close to Joey.

I smile, say hey, and walk into the store, already dreading walking back out.  When I do, I try to act like I'm in a rush.  He doesn't get the hint.

The conversation goes like this:

Icky Dude : Hey girl. How you doin?

Me (walking like I have to pee really badly): *quick smile*

Icky Dude : Hey girl. <something I don't understand>?

Me : Sorry. In a hurry.

Icky Dude (now yelling because I'm crossing the parking lot) : Wait! Wait! Come here! I have something to ask you!

Me (turning around) : What?

Icky Dude : You know anyone who needs any Xanax bars?

Me : Ummm...no.  Sorry.

Icky Dude : Mmmmm, mmmmm!!! *bites his bottom lip*  DAMN.  Girl, you gotta man?

Me (walking away again) : Yes....I'm married.  Sorry!

 --------------------

Ok. Ew.

I suppose I can see someone trying to pick up someone at a store.  Whatever.  BUT!  Not so much in the way he did.  And, um, please take a gander at how was looking at the moment of pickup attempt.  I'd just gotten off of work.  And I smelled bad, to boot.

THIS?  This garnered an "MMMM MMMMM, DAMN!!!" from the guy?  

Yo, check it. I'm a hot biotch y'all!

Because I'm durrrrrrrrrty!

My street-walkin' shoes, yo.

My hair does that without wind.  I'm supafly!

So I ask...WTF was he thinking?!   "Damn, this girl needs a bath!  I want me summa that!"

*insert rolling eyes here*

The hotty known as Dave2 did a bullet-point Sunday thingy today.  And, since I have a headache and I've been so busy, nothing in my life is funny enough to make a real post about, I thought I'd steal the idea for today. 

Ok, so Dave may be funnier and a bit more interesting, but, hey, I have better hooters.  So, enjoy.

• It's been 2 weeks since I stopped drinking soda.  I don't miss it because I drink gallons of iced tea to keep my crack caffeine addiction going.  I did have a small glass of Diet Coke the other day when I ran out of tea...and it made me sick.  I couldn't see, my head hurt so badly.  Scary, huh?
• Buying a used car SUCKS - especially when you have a price restriction.  I've driven more pieces of shit in the last 2 weeks than anyone ever should in their lifetime.  I thought I was going to die in one of them when the brakes stopped working.  Yeah.
• I saw a quite mean-looking, grumpy old man driving a car he'd obviously just purchased from a used car lot.  Of course, the universe is good at evening these things out, so it made my soul smile to see he unknowingly had the previous owner's gay pride sticker still on his bumper.
• Never underestimate the hillbillyness of my parents. Dinner with them the other night resulted in sentences like "You been dancin' huh? You dance as good as that Jerry Springer?" and "I like shoppin' at the Salvation Army. They have a good sale on Thursdays and I can get a whole outfit for $6!"   See the pride oozing from my every pore?  Mmhmm.
• I see David Sedaris in 2 days, 20 hours, and 26 minutes.  Not that I'm excited or anything.
• I got another email from Spermamax.  This time they said they can make me 'as productive as a rabbit'.  I wonder if those rabbits get lots of laundry done when they're productive, because, if so, I might consider buying the stuff.
• Lastly, I can't stop watching this clip. Weird Al rocks my socks.

I just got a spam email with a subject line that said this:

Spermamax will make your sperm as tasty as a cake!

Hmmmm. How keen.

Besides my, ahem, David Sedaris tickets [insert angelic music here], I also got tons of birthday stuff from Amazon.com - partially from my wish list and partially gift certificates from a few folks (including my bubba, who sent me a $100 cert! Yowza!).

I now have everything from Amazon, so I wanted to share with yous (because seething with jealousy is good...remember the David Sedaris tickets?):

Ahoy! The booty!

Bullshit! Season 1...Friends Season 9...Friends Season 10...Arrested Development Season 3...2007 Writer's Market...The Comedy Bible...Garden State (from Karl!)...Tales of Adam, Daniel Quinn...Children Playing Before a Statue of Hercules, David Sedaris (from Kevin!)...The Fray cd (from Deb!)...The Killers cd...OK Go cd.

Bootylicious!

Then, yesterday?  I got the gift that made me cry.

Shellie snuck some pictures I'd taken and had an artist rendering done of them and then had them framed for me.

Beagles, ho!!

On the left, the three beagles (Malachi, Moxie, Bo) with their noses under the fence...my favorite picture ever.  On the right, my angel Malachi, who passed away in May.

I did not run to the refrigerator first thing this morning and take a bite two bites of the cheesecake sitting in there.

I'm not remotely interested in dressing my dog up for Halloween this year - especially if she'd be dressed up as a (fat!) pink beagle princess because HOW CUTE!!!! that would be totally stupid.

I am not happy about this whole weather thing. A high of 80 degrees today?  Bring back the triple digits and heat strokes and drought!

I'm not addicted to sweet tea.  And I don't drink about a gallon a day.

I'm SO not ready to see David Sedaris speak in 19 days, 9 hours and 46 minutes. YUCK!

I hate dancing. And I'm not looking forward to the studio's 'dance of the season' tonight where we'll be doing swing, salsa, tango...and all kinds of other fun crappy stuff.  And I certainly can't stand that there will be free food because, um, free food sucks. And free drinks? NO THANK YOU.

And I do not want another bite of that cheesecake....

Whew!  What a weekend!

Shellie and J (the ol' dance partner) made my birthday run from Friday to Monday...everyday was about ME! 

For someone who never even celebrates birthdays, it was interesting.  I got to pick the movies ('Take the Lead' and 'The Last Kiss') and pick the food (cheese fries and cheesecake and cheeseburgers and...well, lots of cheese, apparently).  And I got some great presents (tango CDs, a memory foam pillow, and, oh yeah, DAVID.SEDARIS.TICKETS).

So now that I'm officially 31 (dammit), what on earth do I have to look forward to?!

(DAVID SEDARIS! OCTOBER 18th!)

That's right - HALLOWEEN!

I freakin' love Halloween.  I like handing out candy and seeing all the kids' costumes (except when the 20-year-olds just wear a baseball cap and want free crap from me).  I like decorating (though don't do it nearly enough).  And I love love love dressing up.

I'm not one for parties anymore (31, remember?), but if it's a Halloween party?  COUNT ME IN!

In 2001, I started going to a private 'invite only' party thrown for some richies in town (I knew the band playing one year and snuck myself onto the mailing list...I don't normally get invited to the richies' parties, you see).  They rent out a big concert hall for the night, have free wine, a cheap cash bar, bands, dancing, etc.  Last year, they hired the big marching/dancing band from a high school and had them parading around the balcony sections while we all danced.  It's definitely what you'd call a BASH.

To be let in the door, you must be wearing formal wear or a REAL costume (no baseball caps, 20-year-olds!).  Most of the people choose costumes.  And, believe me, you ain't seen nothin' like richies dressing up.  It's AMAZING.

Of course, I've lost all my pictures from last year (wtf??), but I promise some good ones this year.

Last year I went as an evil fairy.  I have no idea what I'm dressing up as this year. I need to go SHOPPING!

Are you dressing up?  Have you already gotten your costume?  What do you do on Halloween?

The move to Texas is nearing! 

I thought I'd share the progress of the house.  The last picture was taken today (September 17th). 

These were taken every week or two since August 6th.  The builders are KICKING BUTT!

Crap...I guess that means I need to start packing.

Two weeks ago, I posted about moving to Texas.  And I showed a picture of the new house.

Since I know you all are DYING to see how it's going, here's a couple of pics of it as it is. My brother (hi Bubba!) said the lot next door has the foundation and driveway poured, so we're assuming we're next in line.

Woot!

(yay! the dirt is in the shape of a driveway now!)

(welcome to our humble home. please, let me take your coats)

So, hypothetically...how would one most safely and securely pack 1 bottle of Bacardi Limon rum, 1 2-liter of club soda, 2 limes and a package of mint leaves to travel on an airplane from Oklahoma to California?

Remember : hypothetically.

I can eat me some food. Sometimes it's scary.  If I didn't have a physically-demanding job and didn't have a fairly high metabolism, I think I'd probably be in the 400lb to 500lb range about now. 

I. Love. Food. MUCH.

As a matter of fact, Shellie gave me a dirty look the other day because as I was eating a pastry thing, I said, "MMMMMMMMMM!!!! If I could hump this thing, I would."

I mean...I wouldn't have really.  What kind of girl do you take me for?

(But I can't promise that I wouldn't have humped it. It was totally that good.)

(Not that I'd do that or anything.)

So. Yeah. What if you could have one meal consisting of anything you wanted...as much as you wanted...and you wouldn't damage your body in any way (no weight gain, no cholesterol, no upset stomach problems, etc)?  What would be on your menu?

(I would go into the whole prison last meal thing, but I'm assuming that you folks wouldn't slay entire families and stuff.  Assuming.  And hoping.)

My menu would look something like this :

• tempura shrimp sushi rolls w/ wasabi and soy
• fried pork chops (4, please)
• lots of good, warm, fresh bread and (real) butter
• a nice, big, steak (cooked medium) (with caramelized onions and mushrooms on top)
• corn on the cob with lots of butter
• endless chips and salsa
• 3 huge slices of cheese, mushroom and onion pizza (New York style!)
• a stack of crabcakes
• A whole plate of onion rings - and not those thick sanitary Burger Street ones, either...I want the thinner, greasy ones you find at dirty hole-in-the-wall places!

And, to finish it off,

• an entire cheesecake with a little caramel topping

Dammit. Now I'm hungry. 

What about yous?  What's the best food ever?  What's your dessert of choice?

---------------------------------------------

Speaking of food stuff, have you guys met Janet?? I think everyone already knows her, but if you don't...hop to it.  I read her a lot and actually think I may have been channelling her when I had my blog designed because just look at how similar we think!  About The Chef. Pay The Tab. Oooh!

Along with having a great blog design, Janet is a tv junkie to the core!!  (Kevin, you might want to read her. Dammit.)  She also recently talks about what goes on at Bachelor/Bachelorette parties...so go have a look!

Besides, she links to my girl Deb...so anyone that brave is a-ok in my book.  (Deb is a whore.)

I watched a spider dropping from the ceiling today and the voice in my head suddenly said : boy, if the web would have shot out of Spiderman's butt like that, it would have been a much different movie.

I need to have a drink with those voices sometime...methinks they're my kind of people.

It has begun.  There are only 9 days until the BlogHer conference, and, in Chase language, that means it's time to start having nutball dreams.

You know, those same dreams you had right before school started where you were running around looking for the right classroom and then a phone starts ringing but you can't find it so you start looking in lockers but when you finally find the right one you can't open it because you forgot the combination so you try to find your friends to help you and run into the classroom and look down and see you're completely naked and holding a chia pet?

Not that I've had that dream.

And I wouldn't have a chia pet anyway. Come on, get real.

Last night was filled with BlogHer dreams.  First, we were all in Vegas instead of SanJose (yeah, like any of us would actually make it to a conference if we held it in Vegas).

I missed the meet-and-greet because I decided to help the hotel staff in the garden and lost all track of time.  Then, when I finally realized I was running late, I had dirt ALL over my clothes and had to run back to my room and change.  And *gasp* guess what?  That's right...I'd forgotten to bring extra clothes with me.  The only other shirt I could find was about 3 sizes too small and said "I [HEART] WRITERS" on the front.

Don't think I didn't sport it like a champ. Because I totally did.

As I'm running back to the hotel lobby, I get lost and run out some doors, where there's a guy dressed up in a knight costume and he grabs me, laughing, like it's part of the Vegas charm or something...and he WON'T. LET. GO.  

"Dammit, I don't have time for this - I'm running late to pick up my BlogHer name tag!!!"

So I finally  find the right place and the long check-in table.  But, of course, all I can do is ask everyone, "Where's Mom101?!"

(seriously.  sorry Liz.  I wish I was joking)

I can't find Mom101, but I did find my name tag.  But, like I expect, it has my real full name.  So, like any rational human being, I scribble all over the beautiful name tag, writing "CHASE" all over it.  It looks like a 2-year-old did it, it's so sloppy.

Classy, I know.

I never did make it to the conferences.  I was either looking for the right room or sitting in the lobby watching tv.   And, much to my dismay, I never found Mom101.

Good lord, all you BlogHers are in for it.

Anyone else?

Dreams? Anyone? 

No?  Fine. *pout*

And here's what we learned yesterday :

• When you're rushing from one place to another and want a quick, easy lunch on the go, don't pick tacos.  It's not as easy as it freaking sounds.
• Even more fun than hanging up on telemarketers? Answering and blasting music/singing for them.  I've had a load of fun the last couple of days introducing unsuspecting people to Blue October.
• A beagle biting a frog equals lots of foaming at the mouth and lots of vomiting. Yay!
• Even though you can't see it because of the bubbles, sometimes there's a knife in the sink, pointing straight up, waiting to stab you in the palm.
• Don't sit your drinking cup next to your 'this is where I put my eaten sunflower seeds' cup. There is a huge mix-up potential here, people.

I was tagged by the beautiful Gemini's Wisdom with the Wikipedia meme.  The rules are simple:

1. Go to Wikipedia
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two interesting birthdays and one interesting death.
5. One holiday or observance (if any).

My phone rings while I'm at work this morning.

Me : Hello?

Shellie : Whatcha doin?

Me : Putting my caulk in some lady's cracks.

Shellie : You're such a slut.

Me : Well, she's paying me for it, so I'm technically a whore.

Aaaaaaaaaaand, scene.

Thank you.  I'm here all week.

The older I get, the more sissyfied I become.  Especially with bugs.

When I was younger, I didn't mind bugs.  As a matter of fact, I had more bug friendships than I did people ones.  I had an entire colony of roley poley bugs under a log that I played with and studied and let crawl all over my arms.  I would pick up locusts by their backs and giggle as they vibrated and hummed in my fingers.  I let grandaddy longlegs inch their way across my hands and wouldn't mind one little bit. I filled my Barbie spa to the brim and tirelessly tried to teach grasshoppers how to swim. 

Oh, yes.  I did.

(They never learned a damn thing, the lazy fuckers)

We had a tree in our front yard that had an infestation of 2-inch long Asian Longhorn Beetles (picture).  Absolutely no fear with those suckers, even though they had very LARGE pinchers, they squeaked quite loudly, and they could fly a zillion miles per hour if they wanted to.  Instead of running like a little bitch (like I would do now), I would catch them and play scientist.

How, you ask? Well, let me tell ya. It was another brilliant idea by yours truly.  I can't believe I never won an award for my big fat brain.

I would get a plastic cup...anything I could see through.  I'd douse a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol, stick it and the bug under the cup, and wait for the bug to pass out.  Then, while he was out cold, I would cut him open with an exacto knife, thinking I was doing exploratory surgery.  I don't remember making any stunning discoveries, but I did have an operation journal.  I would jot down my findings, tie a piece of dental floss around him (you know, to heal the enormous gash I'd sliced into his stomach) and wait for him to wake up.

The majority of the time, they woke up.  When he began to rouse, I would paint a number on his back with fingernail polish and set him free.  I would keep tabs on the bug, assuming I ever saw him again.  Most of the entries were similar to this:

Bug #5 : (2in. 3cm.)

• 10/5/84 : Surgery went well.  He will feel better by tomorrow.
• 10/6/84 : No sign of #5 today.  He may be helping build a nest in the tree.
• 10/5/84 : Found #5 in the yard dead. Maybe a bird killed him.

Now?  Not so freakin' much.

I had to work outside today at a house in the country.  Bugs. Everywhere.  Chase no likey.  I fell off my ladder twice...once because a tiny (tiny!) wasp was flying semi-near my face, and the other time because the rag in my pocket brushed up against my leg and I thought it could possibly be a spider.  Yeah.  And I can't count the number of times I dropped the f-bomb and ran screaming because I heard something fly within a 2-foot radius of my head.

That makes me think...maybe all these bugs really want is a little attention. They didn't bother me while I was doin' my thing back in the 80s.  Maybe if I care enough to teach some of them how to swim, they won't hunt me down to crawl in my ear so they can breed in there.  Maybe if I try to learn more about their guts, they won't fly at my face and try to stab my eyes out with their pointy fangs.

Maybe they just need someone to care about them.  So, I'm gonna give it a shot.  I have a big ol' can of flying inscet killer bug lovin' that I'd like to share with them.  Com'ere, wittle cutey wooty wittle waspy.  I have something for you.

(Sorry Dave)

First of all, if you read my blog via Bloglines, you should click through and check out my new template.  Megan at Webundance did this one for me.  Yay!

I just got home from Vegas a couple of hours ago, whereas I was SUPPOSED to get home yesterday.  We had flight delays, weather issues, the plane ran out of gas, we missed our connecting flight, we had to stay in Denver all night, we still have no luggage...

Wait. Did you people catch that?  The plane.  It ran out of gas.

We were circling Denver, trying to land before the storm there hit and the pilot came over the intercom saying he didn't have enough fuel to circle anymore and we'd fly to Colorado Springs to fill up and then try again.

Umm. Say what?  You didn't think to do this whole "put gas in the plane" thing BEFORE we took off? 

I have loads of pictures, but WAY too many to post here. I'll get a Flickr album or something for all your curiosities.  Here are a few, though.

(where I spent most of my time...on the beach outside of Mandalay Bay!)

(my favorite hotel...NYNY)

(me and the freakishly tall Penn Jillette!)

Seriously, sometimes people just need to tell me to stop talking.  On the phone with Cox Cable :

Tech : Cox Cable, how can I help you?

Me : Hi!  Ok, so I had cable internet and a digital phone.  They both ran through the same modem.  Well, a few weeks ago - probably 2 or 3 - I decided I didn't need the digital phone anymore because I only had it hooked up to my fax machine for one specific reason and I don't have that reason anymore...so I called and cancelled the phone.  Well, today, I saw a Cox Cable truck come by the house and then my internet went out.  So I assumed, since it was the first of the month, they're just now shutting off the phone.  I also forgot that I needed to switch the modem to the old modem that didn't have the phone into it, just the cable internet, so after the Cox truck left, I switched my modem over and now it's still not working. I still have the CD and it said it was installed, and all the lights are on, but it's just not connecting.  I was wondering if you could tell me if this is a me problem or a you problem or my internet is just out and what I need to do from here.

Tech : Umm.....what?

Me : Hmm.  Ok.  So...I had cable internet and.....

Tech : Wait. So you're saying you changed your modem out?

Me : Yes.

Tech : Ok. That's really all the information I needed.  I'll get that information changed for you.

Heh. Well color me chatty.  That SO could have gone more smoothly if she would have just told me to shut the hell up.

It was rainy and quiet today.  I was goofing around on the internet, taking a break from washing dishes, and in between loads of laundry.  The tv was on, but I wasn't paying attention - I was just tired of the quiet.

I was home alone, the dogs were outside, it was my personal time.  So I decided I'd just...ya know...do it.  I mean, no one would see me.  And women do it all the time, right?

I drew the blinds.  I locked the door.  I leaned back in my chair.

I groaned a little.  I giggled a little.  I couldn't believe I was doing it - in the middle of the day, no less.  It's usually something I do only at night, so it was a little awkward for me.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was a little ashamed.  But I didn't stop. I have to admit - I actually liked it. 

After about 45 minutes, it was over.  I sighed.  Who knew that would have been so enjoyable?  I still feel guilty about it, though, so I'm confessing.  Maybe if I have your understanding - and your forgiveness - I can live with myself for doing it.

Bloggies, internets, loyal readers, stalkers...I ask you...will you forgive me for watching a whole episode of Dr. Phil today?

I'm sorry.  I'm really, truly sorry.  I promise won't do it again.

While I was watching "So You Think You Can Dance":

Midget : I love dancing.

Show Host : How long have you been dancing?

Midget : Since I was small.

Me: BWWAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

I have nothing of import to say today, so I thought I'd share a few pictures.  I told Kevin many moons ago I'd post some cemetary pictures for him and I never did.  I don't want him to think I'm a liar.  Because I'm not.

(that's a lie)

I took the first set in Tulsa...the second set came from New Orleans.  Read on to see 'em.

I've seen this one a few places and love the idea. I eventually stole it from Kathleen.  So...here's a sorta meme.  Steal it if you wish.

List up to ten (10) things you want to say to ten (10) different people. Do not state who these people are. Do not confirm or deny any ‘comment speculation’.

1. I forgave you a long time ago. 
2. You don't think anyone knows - but I saw you do it.
3. I was wrong. 
4. I love that I'm smarter than you.
5. I think you're perfect - and that scares me.
6. I cried in front of you - but I'm just a good liar. 
7. I think it was all a mistake.
8. It was me. 
9. You truly inspire me. Thank you. 
10. I feel sorry for you, but it's your own fault.

I've seen this all over the freaking place lately, so you've probably already done it.  If not, steal away.  I decided to steal it from Brandon, though. 

How-to : Simple - go to google and type in your name and "needs" and list your top ten :

• Chase needs no wildcards
• Chase needs a haircut  - D'OH!!
• Chase needs to grow - as long as it's not around the waist, ok.
• Chase needs more money now - HELLS YEAH
• Chase needs help with his homework - and I apparently need to find my penis
• Chase needs money to buy his bus pass to Canada - Eh?
• Chase needs to confirm personal data
• Chase needs to process checks - stupid bank
• Chase needs a solution - what IS the meaning of life?
• Chase needs a gym now - HEY. It's only because you said I should grow.

Nothing says "Happy Monday" like a visit from the Google Search Fairy.  Here are some of my recent visitors.  (Hi, welcome to Taste the World! You freaks.)

inspector gadget porn - You're my kind of guy. How's about giving me your digits?  Go, go, gadget sicko!

zit on cheek video - Ew. I don't think I've seen that one. And, um, oh yeah...no thanks.

fat girls deep throating - Pappy, was that you?

changing stinky poopy pull up story - You might wanna try one of the mommy bloggers. Beagles don't wear pull-ups.  (Though NOT a bad idea)

peeing outside of tailgate - Errrrrrr. I can't say I've ever done that. And if I did...you don't have pics, do you?

petrified dinosaur shit - Seriously, I was number one for that search at one point. Now I've been knocked down to #6. Waaaaaaa!!

give gizzards a chance - Mmmmm. Yeah, MUCH better than peace.

kristen, boy, cock, inches, kid, archive - What the??  Kristen, is there something you're not telling me? 

--------------------------------

Speaking of freaks, don't forget to go say hi to my gal, Deb. She fixed her site after I yelled at her. Good girl.  GO SAY HI NOW.

While watching The Aadam's Family today :

Me : Ooooh, can we have a moat?

S : Umm...what?

Me : When we have the house in Dallas built, we should put a moat around it.  You know so no.....um......telemarketers come around.   Or.....whatever they're called.

S : Jehovah's Witnesses.

I feel like I haven't posted a meaningful blog in forever. I've just been spouting torrents of crap.  But, because I love you guys so freakin' much, I'll offer you this...special...just for you.

More crap! Yay! Lucky biotches, the whole lot of ya.

I have a new (very NOT crappy) tenant this week. Everyone say hello to T.  She's got one of the hottest header banners on the blogosphere and, from what I gather, actually IS one of the hottest.  She has a post up right now about her funny Google searches - I love these posts!  I mean, if one can search for "gay snakeskin pants" and find her?  GOLDEN.  Go. Now.

Our move to Texas is chugging right along.  I flew down there for the day and my brother and I picked the house we're going to have built.  (When I say "we", I mean I helped pick, but he's paying for and is responsible for everything. Gotta love that!)  Since we decided to go with building new, our move has been postponed until December.  Can't wait!

Just a random note to anyone flying in the near future : if you're in the window seat, don't lean into the wall and read during turbulence. You might hit a huge air pocket and your head will embarassingly smash into the window twice in a row.  Just saying.

I, like about 10 million other people right now, am reading The DaVinci Code.  Have you guys read this yet?  What do you think?  I've just finished chapter 21.  So far, much more intriguing than I imagined. I'm actually glad I randomly bought it at the airport.

• Running through the airport crying because you just dropped your dog off at baggage is not flattering.  And it will make strangers' children run away from you in fear.
• Yes, it does make you an über geek that someone using proper punctuation turns you on.
• Despite your persistance in trying, you simply don't look good as a blonde - sorry, loser!
• Next time you go to swing dance class, make sure your shirt is all the way buttoned.
• When you open the door and think "GOD it smells like sewer out here" don't assume the dogs haven't been rolling in it and let them all run inside at once.
• Make reminder notes to remind yourself to read your reminder notes.
• Seriously? The blonde? Mmmm - not so much on that one.

We at Taste The World like to insure that our readers are always safe and happy. That is why, after much preparation and wise consideration, we have put together this public service announcement for your safety and enjoyment.  As our offices were undergoing threat of tornado, we thought of you, dear blog readers, and made this step-by-step guide to twister preparation.

If, while on the internet reading your Bloglines, oblivious to any sign of danger, you hear tornado sirens begin to scream, please take these steps so you don't die like a ho.

STEP 1

Run outside and look at the sky. When you see it looks all green and scary-like, run like hell back into the house and turn on the weather reports.  When you hear the newsman say, seriously, this : "...when a tornado is barrelling down on the city of Tulsa, it's not good news," say back to the tv, "ya think?!?!" and run back outside with your camera.  When you see the sky churning like this :

...text message all your friends and tell them you might be dead soon.

STEP 2

When the storm cloud starts dropping "appendages" about 10 miles from your house and is heading right toward your area, start preparing to take cover.  Say "oh shit" when you remember you don't have a storm shelter or basement.  Find the center of your house with no windows and get that area ready.  If your house is like the Taste The World offices, clean everything out of a hall closet and pile it into the guest room.  Wonder how allllll this stuff fit into one closet:

STEP 3

After you remove everything from said closet space, wonder how the hell you're going to fit 2 people, 4 dogs and 2 cats in there.  Also, make a note to yourself that, since you've lived there, you've never once seen the bottom of this closet because the previous owners had left 392847239 gallons of paint in there.  Also notice how oh-my-GOD dirty the carpet is.  Remind yourself that, if push comes to shove, Shellie will be the one sitting on that floor.

STEP 4

Gather animals who are already freaked out by the sirens blaring.  Grab all 4 dogs and 2 cats and shut them in the hallway. Hope that dogs do not eat cats. Try to get a good picture of them under the door.

STEP 5

While the animals are killing each other in the hot hallway, run back outside with your camera, yelling to the sky, "DON'T KILL ME YET, I NEED PICTURES FOR MY BLOGGGGGGGGG!!"  Take pictures of the sky rotating above you while listening to the song of sirens. 

STEP 6

Ask Shellie (or someone else if you have no Shellie) to show your blog readers which of the clouds up there is the one that's going to soon leave you dead and bleeding. 

This concludes our PSA.  Please remember these proceedures next time your life is in danger.

[After reading my last post]

Shellie : You put that on your blog?

Me : Yep. Sure did!

Shellie : Wow - and you didn't even embellish it.

Me [pointing at the screen] : Yeah, I kinda did. Right here.

Shellie : Oh, well you embellish all the time.  You're an embellisher.  You're just a LIAR.

Me : Yeah, well, you're a whore.

This morning as we were talking about moving in with my brother :

Shellie : You did tell him I was coming too, right?

Me : Regretfully.

Shellie : Excuse me?

Me : You heard me.

Shellie : You know, there's an elbow right. by. your. face. lady.

Me : There's also drool stains around. your. mouth.

Shellie [shrugging] : Eh, whattaya gonna do?

First order of business is that you need to check out this post about Mrs.Fortune's life in the movie biz and her prediction of upcoming movies (all of which star the lovely, potty-mouthed, obviously very busy Samuel L. Jackson).  Hilarious!

And I'm also officially at BlogHer now. I registered, got a hotel, and booked a window seat on American Airlines. I'll be hanging out with another lovely, potty-mouthed, obviously very busy person : Deb. So if I go missing, check her suitcase for mutilated body parts.  She's already threatened me once. And you know how those Los Angeles folks are.

I have an armoire to finish cussing at putting together, have to pick up some siding, have a meeting with a client, and I have to be in court at 1:30 for the gas leak incident (yay!), so I can't do a real post right now.  I'm right there with ol' Sam and Deb...lovely, potty-mouthed and obviously very busy. More later tonight.

Shellie to a friend : ...and I know [Chase] is going to make a million dollars in her lifetime, that's a given. And it'll be from something stupid, you know, something that I'll think is worthless, but it'll work out.

Me : Wait, you think I'm going to make millions?

Shellie : Oh, of course.

Me : Sweet.  But, it'll be from something stupid?

Shellie : Yeah. It'll be something that's just really retarded, but it'll end up just taking off.

Me : Will I think it's stupid?

Shellie : Of course not, you'll have faith in it from the start.

WELL! First of all, that's probably one of the coolest compliments I've ever gotten - someone is sure I'll make millions off of one of my stupid ideas. 

Secondly, I need to start thinking of more stupid ideas!!  Because, ya know, with my superior mega-brilliance, stupid is really hard for me to pull off.  I'm way intellectually complex.  And stuff.

(heh. I said pull off.)

I took these pictures around town yesterday. Enjoy.

This campaign is called "Up With Trees."  Basically, you rent a lot of land, the city plants trees there in your or your company's name, and you do good for the environment and stuff.  That's all good and nicey nice and responsible...or whatever...but do you notice what I notice?  That's right - the 'save the trees' signs are made with wood. ALL of them are. 

I hope they're hiring spellcheckers.

When I get bored, instead of doing something productive like clean...or spend time with the kids animals...or work on magazine submissions/queries, I like to waste time by aimlessly searching the internet. Last night's search was Ways-To-Make-Fun-Of-Oklahoma.  Not that it's a daunting task.

So I stumbled upon a site about our famed, insane evangelist, Oral Roberts.  Now, I may be a mature 30-year-old woman *giggle* and an upstanding member of society *snort*, but in situations like these, my mentality goes straight to 12-year-old boy.  Here was my thought process while reading the article:

Ooooh, something to poke fun of Oklahoma.

Heh. They said Oral.

Blah blah blah...healing the sick....yadda yadda yadda.

His son's name is Richard, I never knew that.

Heh. Richard's nickname would be Dick.

Dick Roberts. Heh.  I'm funny.

Wah wah wah....had to close the hospital....blab blab blab.

Heh. Roberts nickname would be Bob.

Dick Bob. Heh. Heh. Heh. 

A man named Oral has a son named Dick Bob.  Oooh, the irony.

Heh heh heh heh.

So, being the upstanding citizen *bwaahahaha* and genteel soul I am *snortdroolguffaw*, I did the next logical thing.  I kept that information to myself because that's just silly blogged about it for you fine folks. You're very welcome.

I was looking at the Oklahoma Lottery website and found a list of all the big winners, complete with pictures of them holding their checks. These people just won a buttload of money and look at their expressions :

So it got me thinkin. What would I look like in my 'holding the big check' picture? I tend to think I'd be just a tad more excited about it than they were. And I'd try not to look so...Oklahoman.  I wonder if they'd let me work it?

(Please notice : I'd totally be sporting Dave2's shirt whilst working it.)

There's been a little progress at the ol' Chase palace lately. (And when I say palace I mean ghetto shack.)  Shellie and I bought this 1930s fixer-upper in October 2004, and have been remodeling it one little pain in the damn ass project at a time. We pretty much live paycheck to paycheck, so the projects are slow-going, to say the least. No room is actually 100% complete yet, but all the rooms are close if that counts.

Here's our latest project:

These windows were added in the 60s sometime, when they changed the porch area into a family room. It's a great space, with a built-in liquor/coffee bar, french doors, and lots of square footage. Only problem? They didn't know what the hell they were doing when they built on - no insulation, crap windows, and did I mention no insulation?

My computer desk sits up next to this wall and I could feel a breeze on my feet. I had to put plastic on the windows like true Oklahoma trash. Plastic. Stuck up there with Priority Mail tape from the post office. Seriously stylin'. The windows were so drafty, anytime the wind blew, the plastic moved. If the mailman farted as he walked by, the blinds would quiver.

So we decided to rip out the whole thing and put an insulated wall there. We have 2 sets of french doors on the other side of the room, so the lack of light wasn't an issue anyway. See the insulation up there above the windows?  Liar.  Because that's not insulation - it's just a thin layer of paper stapled to the studs.  Yeeeeeaaah, that helped a whole helluva lot.

NO MORE WINDOW!!  Unfortunately, I happened to schedule the job on the Coldest.Day.Of.The.Year.  This was taken right before it snowed. I'm so freaking awsome it hurts. Note to self : watch the damn Weather Channel.  I spent the day on the couch in the den in a coat, wrapped in a blanket, two heaters blowing directly on me, and three beagles curled up on the couch next to me.

Looky! Plywood! There were like three large gaps in the plywood with the wind shrieking through, but it was still warmer than those windows. Plus I can walk naked in front of this without the neighbors calling the cops again. Not that I did. Or. Whatever. Anyway.

Here she is today! It's a real wall! With real insulation inside! Of course, now I have to paint the damn thing and then there are three other walls to go in this room, but we take it one thing at a time. We'll just sit really close to this complete, windowless, warm wall until that time comes.

We've had 2 houseguests from Wisconsin here since Saturday.  They're leaving tomorrow afternoon.

Five things that will change when they leave:

• Ten bottles of random stuff will be missing from my shower
  
• No more cheesehead jokes
• I regain control of the remote
  
• Fresh Prince of Bel-Air will NOT be an option
  
• I won't get to hear things like "hey der, dontcha know?" and "where's the TYME machine?"

QUESTION : What do all these things have in common? The answer is below. Don't cheat.

• salsa
• a dead ant
• oatmeal
• half of a popcorn kernel
• dirt
• a chunk of half-melted chocolate
• diet coke
• what could possibly have been an entire kitten

 Eh?  Any idea?  No, it's not what I had for breakfast.

ANSWER : Things that came out of my keyboard when I cleaned it today.  Seriously, dude.  It was that disgusting.

When Shellie and I go grocery shopping, it's known that I have to be the one who unloads the cart onto the conveyor belt.  I've given a few dirty looks and deep sighs if she tries to help.

Kristen recently wrote a post about the "just-so gene".  Here is a bit of her explanation:

I'm convinced that everyone is born with the just-so gene. You know what I mean. The "That picture needs to be hung, just-so," or "my towels need to be folded, just-so" gene.

I'm thinking my need for utter control of how the cart is unloaded borders on this just-so gene.  Well, one side borders that - the other side is ass-deep in the freaking-nutjob-OCD gene.  When I first read Kristen's theory, my humble contribution was that my only just-so thing was my list-making, particularly my grocery lists.  But I was wrong - it spreads throughout the whole shopping experience.

First of all, there is the perfectly-written grocery list that I spoke of here, where I have a blueprint-like map of the entire store.  Secondly, and almost more disturbingly, is the checkout issue.  When I unload the cart, I have to place the items on the conveyor belt according to size and shape of the items.  Boxes have to sit next to boxes, frozen items must be with frozen items...you get the picture.  Yeah, I know.  Most times, the labels are even all facing outward, god help me.

I went shopping yesterday.  I had all grocery items except for a package of razor refills.  It was almost painful sitting it next to my milk.  I switched its position about 5 times before just giving up on making it fit. 

Despite how it sounds, I really am a fairly normal person.  Really.  I just have a thing about my list stuffs and my shopping stuffs.  It's certainly gotta be just-so.   To the readers who didn't participate in Kristen's question : what is your just-so?

(There ya go, Kristen, payback for all your stolen inspired ideas lately!)

Technorati tags : shopping, groceries, OCD

Maybe it's all the yoga and meditation I've been doing lately.  Or maybe it's the fact I knew I shouldn't have left it in the back of my truck overnight, so I know I kinda deserve it.  Either way, I'm not the least bit mad at you for taking it.

Sure, I was annoyed and disappointed when I walked outside and saw the tailgate down with no pressure washer around.  I was also a little creeped out when I saw your handprints on the dirty truck and your footprints in the dirt.  I even saw how you sat down the washer in my flowerbed while you rummaged around, grabbing the brand new gun and extra hoses from the truck as