That title, as is usually the case with my blog, has no relevance whatsoever to this post. However, I have always wanted to use that phrase, and now seemed as good a time as any. And now that I’m thinking of it, could you stick anything in a pipe and smoke it? I have never smoked before- not a cigarette (vomit), not a cigar (vomit), not a pipe (vomit), or anything else that can be smoked. About as close as I’ve gotten to smoking is my almost daily ritual of eating smoked turkey on my sandwiches (refer to previous posts to read about my repetitive lunch menus). Anyway, if pipes were filled with cheese or chocolate or something else, I might be interested in taking up the habit. But I guess that’s kind of like saying if alcoholic beverages didn’t contain any alcohol, I might be more interested in drinking them… which sounds stupid, but is also true for me.
You have probably heard either Allison or myself tell the story about when we were young (2nd or 3rd grade), and we were picking out what to wear to school the next day, and Allison very sternly informed me that sometimes “you have to sacrifice comfort for fashion.” And while I have always done my best to avoid falling into this trap (I typically attempt to look my best, but with the least amount of discomfort possible), today I am a slave to that rule. I am wearing a headband, but not for any particular reason. I dried and straightened my hair, so it’s not like I’m trying to keep ponytail wispies (yes, that’s a real word from here on out) out of my face. I just took a look in the mirror once I was dressed and decided that my head was missing something, and a headband was it.
Well this headband is giving me a pretty annoying headache. But the unfortunate part of this pointless story is that I knew that it would give me a headache. This particular accessory gives me a headache every single time I wear it, and in fact, I even popped 2 Advil (that’s a lie, they were the Wal-mart brand of Ibuprofen, but you get the idea) before I left for work in anticipation of the pain. And yet her I sit, typing away in my cubicle and enduring a distracting and painful throbbing in my head all because I thought my outfit needed to be topped off. Why are girls so crazy? This would be like if Brian was getting ready for work, glanced one last time in the mirror, and then decided that he needed to slam himself in the head with a hammer before leaving.
In other news, for those of you that were wondering about Buster, he is recovering quite nicely from his surgery. The vet said he would be sluggish and worn out for the remainder of the day, but that was not the case. He was as peppy as ever, jumping at our legs for attention and wanting very desperately to go romp around outside with his ADHD older brother. He did decided to leave us a nice post-surgery surprise in the form of a pile of poop left on our dining room floor. Awesome. I was thinking our dining room needed a little extra touch to make the ambiance a little more formal, and that was just the trick. Don’t worry, we cleaned it up. And when I say “we,” I mean Brian, who is and will always be the scooper of dog poop.
However, you should know that I committed 2 amazing acts of bravery this morning before work without Brian’s help: I killed AND picked up 2 bugs from our kitchen. One was a spider (who, oddly enough, seemed to be missing one of his legs?), and one was a beetle-type creature. I didn’t even wake up Brian for help or moral support- aren’t you proud? Well don’t go pinning my medal of bravery on me just yet, because not 10 minutes later, I heard a fluttering/scraping sound in our laundry room, and as I was convinced that it was a flesh-eating rat of some sort, I had to go wake Brian up to check it out. He, of course, found nothing, but I KNOW there was something in there. And since we opened the doors, it’s probably lurking in the house somewhere—most likely in our underwear drawers or in the microwave, like I accused the cockroaches of doing a few months ago. Those pesky bugs… they really BUG me. HA! Hysterical!
Ok that’s all for now. Here’s a Richmond fun fact for you:
On average, Richmond experiences 114 partly cloudy days per year, and 147 cloudy days per year. Do the math, and that means we only have 94 (95 if it’s leap year!) days of sunshine in a year… how depressing!
(… this is me, waiting for Allison to click on “Comment” and say that I shouldn’t complain, because at least I don’t live in an arctic tundra like Salt Lake City where it snows all year and the sun hates them. Go ahead, sissy, I know you were going to!)