Someone needs to calm me down.

Probably one of my best traits is how I get amazingly excited over the smallest of things. Remember that post about cheese? Also I can't ever buy one of anything (small, price wise), I've tried. It's at least two if not three. I honestly can't stop myself. Like how Safeway has started carrying Harry and David candles. You know, the big ones that normally cost $25 for, wait for it, $12. I got three. Honestly can't help it. They smell amazing and did I mention they're $12? I'm also on a candle kick lately so that's my justification.

P.S. I'm thinking about going back and getting more. I haven't bought the peach one yet.

I am however very proud of myself because I stopped at the stationary store tonight and I only bought one package. My insides were freaking out over all the amazing cuteness and really funny ones. But I was good, I restrained myself. I did it by reminding myself that I want it only to have it, and that's really not a great way to justify something. Sometimes I think I need a parent around.

And vitamin C drops. Really? (I mean come on now Sarah.) I still can't find the watermelon ones. I desperately want them and I am completely deluded into thinking that they taste the same as the jolly ranchers watermelon.

Why I think < and > just needs to be one symbol

So here's a little math lesson for you.

this < means less than
while
this > means greater than

No need to applaud, I know I'm your greatest hero.

Both of these symbols drive me crazy. Because:

this side means the larger number, thing, etc. > while this side is the smaller or lesser of the two.

Or a better diagram that I don't have the patience to make, it came from here (see below).

Why!?! If the eating side (I found the time to make this one because it's funny) always means it's the bigger number. Why do we have to do the flippy flippy?

If someone could explain this to me I would be grateful because right now it seems really dumb to flip it over to mean the opposite when the open end always means it's the bigger number.

Okay, after writing this post and thinking about it (especially that last sentence) I get it. I still think it's stupid.

I do classy things on a daily basis

Here are some examples of exactly how classy I am:

Once with a mouthful of coffee I had to cough, this was not by choice but compulsion. I spewed coffee all over my keyboard and computer screen at work. Try explaining that one as you clean it up.

I constantly trip over myself so it didn't help when one day as I was getting out of my car I turned my ankle luckily saving it before I fell on my face. There were people around and I realized it looked like I just exited my car looking drunk. I walked as soberly as possible (um, how do you do that?) until I was out of sight.

I have problems with too much phlegm (I know TMI) so when I'm clearing my throat out people think I'm sneezing (I've never understood that). I let them think that and I thank them.

When picking up my car from a regular maintenance service I "found" my car.

Dear woman in the drivers seat that I yanked the unlocked door open on,

         I'm sorry and my maniacal laughter as I was walking away was recognizing that I had cracked.

        Sincerely,
         The woman that almost tried to sit in your lap.

Stopped at a red light I saw the turn lane had a green light. Started honking my horn furiously at the car in front of me because we could go. Stopped when I realized that we still had a red light. No I'm not in labor, having a heart attack, or legally blind. Proceeded to not look at anyone around me. Thankfully I was close to home.

This seems like it could become a multi parter...

This is your PSA on Unicorns

A little while ago I was told the truth about unicorns and I haven't posted about it yet because it's left me a little shattered. (I know, to have your dreams shattered by a 2 year old is kinda mind blowing, huh?) Pictured below is exhibit A. (That's right Keller, I'm outing you) One of the sweetest looking (he's deceptive like that) little boys who has left me seeing the world through a new (broken and terrified) lens.

OMG. Stop bragging about your mom Keller. We all know she's hot okay? Geesh, someone has to rein this kid in.

Anywho, one day Mel (Keller's mom, the hot one) and I were working with Keller on his sounds, (i.e. "what does a horse say?") and I thought I would throw Keller a curve ball and trick him into telling me about unicorns (he's a child so he still gets the 411 on the status of unicorns, you know the whole innocent bit). So I asked Keller "what does a unicorn say?" and without hesitation he answered "nom, nom, nom, nom". I. Was. Shocked. My entire life was ruined in one second. I always wanted a unicorn but I suddenly felt a wave of relief that I never got one. This was followed quickly by nausea because oh crap where are the man eating unicorns!?!?

And then he looked at me like "oops, I just said too much" and then started talking animately about his chocolate milk. You didn't fool me Keller. And the kicker is that he knows he's safe, HE can see unicorns so he can escape. He just told and adult that she's screwed. Dammit.

Thanks a lot kid but you know what? You're. Getting. Older.  So I'm thinking that instead of being vigilant for the Zombiepocalypse we actually need to be vigilant for the Unicornocalypse (I'm still working on it). I mean we can actually see zombies but unicorns? Once you're an adult, not so much. They can keep goring you with their horn just to be really sadistic.

I even tried looking up unicorns with the phrase man eaters. But it's so well hidden that this was the best (and closest) answer I found. And it's not even close. The unicorns are still hiding behind the man eating sharks. Way to go sharks, give shelter to the unicorns.

Oh wait. I just found this, so I guess someone else is trying to get the word out too.

UNICORNS. Be super vigilant y'all, because Keller's just going to laugh while we all get eaten.

Legit spy selling sparklers, nothing to see here.

I am now a trained spy.

I know, you're thinking "wow that came on suddenly" but it's real. Totes legit. But I guess I shouldn't be airing it that I'm now a spy or that my new spy name is inigomontoya. See what I did there? I said it really fast so you wouldn't know. Just snuck it into normal conversation.

Hmmm... Let's just go with that I'm not actually a spy. (I totally threw you off my trail with that one!) Yeah, no spies here, just cows.  (WOW I am getting really good at this spy stuff.)

I had a coworker point out that if I am now a spy I should start dressing differently because I'm no longer Sarah. But that's exactly why I won't start dressing differently. Because you will expect it. Duh, I don't know why I have to spell this out.

You can call me Nigo for short, just don't call me Al. Or slur your words, that could end really badly for both of us. Although if you slur it into Neal that would be okay. (Woo Hoo! A new alias!!)

But again, not a spy. NOT A SPY. We sell sparklers. This is a sparkler stand. I'm the one on the left, still lookin' the same.

And I know at this point you all have the frozen perma smile pasted across your faces and some people would interpret it as the "oh my god I think she's lost it" smile but I know deep down it's the "oh my god she's such an amazing spy and she's been a spy one day?!?!?" mixed in with "if she's this awesome of a spy how many other spies are in my life?" smile.

Shock and awe people, shock and awe.

We start all the real spy stuff tomorrow, well the international stuff. See you can't even read that! I'm going to be the best spy ever! NO SPIES HERE. Just move along.

This message doesn't even have to self destruct that's how good I am.

(And now you all think I'm insane, but really, yes I know, really this is how my mind works totally sober.)

My Prius and I are in a fight.

But I think it's winning.

Don't get me wrong I love my Prius, the gas mileage, how it drives, etc.; it's the headrest I have issues with. I've never had a car where the headrest has driven me crazy like this. If my hair is down we have no issues but at the end of the day and my hair is up in a ponytail or a messy knot (it's the end of the day) my headrest becomes my enemy.

 It does this by making me hold my head forward in a really uncomfortable position. It's like the school yard bully holding my head forward. So every evening I throw it on the passenger side floor. I have tried to get used to it. I tried adjusting my seat back back farther. I just look like a ghetto gangster thug wannabe. Great. I tried adjusting the mirror but I still have my neck pulled forward and I can't ignore it.

The issue is that my new bright shiny car looks like it's somehow defective when I have to pull the headrest off every night but I'm not conceding throwing my hair up. So every evening we fight and every morning we make up.

Why the British are actually Pirates...

1. They call all their friends mates.

2. It's an Island.

3. They write piratey drinking songs.



Okay, so she's from New Zealand but that's an Island too and I'm pretty sure that's a good indicator that you're a pirate.


4. Apparently they start them out young because they even dress their babies as pirates.

FAIL and a total WIN

Because this:

is not me. And I've never talked about Dance Dance Revolution before (especially on here) except to say it's name in a funny and dramatically excited way (yes you can be dramatic and excited at the same time). Like Dance! Dance! Revolution! And now I've talked about Dance Dance Revolution, so I guess now this could be me?

And as an even more important note, why when I look up my blog with the title does Dance Dance Revolution come up anyway. They are so not related, except now I guess they are.

So I guess if you want to read my blog you have to know where it is because otherwise you'll just end up playing Dance Dance Revolution. My work here, is done.

This is such a weird post to write...

I'm not going gray, I'm going blonde.

So, every since I can remember I've had this small section of blonde hair that is part of the end of my left eyebrow and extends up into my hairline.

It. Is. Getting. Bigger.

I think the blonde has been working on a strategy for years now because that small patch that was only right at my hairline now fully extends down the left side of my face. It has also convinced a small patch farther back on my head to joint it's side. So not only do I have my kinky curly patch now I have a renegade locket of blonde hair back there keeping it company.

As a side tangent - I have always had trouble with my hair. This is just adding to the mess. Really?!?! Having wavy curly hair means I have to do it every day or otherwise have my hair look like a 5 year old did it. There is no in between, the only way I can look like an adult that you would actually entrust anything to is that I actually do something with my hair. I am now figuring out that my hair has figured out that I have caught on. (was that sentence convoluted enough for you?) And this is it's counter attack. "Sarah figured out how to make herself look like an actual adult, she foiled us and now we have to bring the balance back to our side. Bwahahaha!"

That's not all. It seems to me that there is a section on the right side of my face (exactly mirroring the patch of blonde on my left side) that is slowing getting lighter. My hair is trying the sneak attack but I know it's going to turn blonde and then my hair will shame me with wings of blonde on either side of my face. I will look like a blonde/brunette skunk. I am trying to sleep as little as possible so the hair on both sides of my head has less time to work out their plans, but I'm still sleeping. Sleeping = me getting screwed over by my hair.

There's nothing I can do to counter act their plans besides dye my hair. And I have dyed my hair but I dyed it red. Hello! Hair! I gave you a suggestion, many times. Why did you pick blonde? I have never said I wanted to be a blonde. I am now expecting to be fully blonde by the time I'm 40. So if you see a blonde woman that looks vaguely familiar but you can't quite place her. It will be me.

Thanks a lot stupid hair.

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As to the new popular post section: Don't forget the fakelaki is number one? I honestly didn't see that coming. I mean I don't even talk about what a fakelaki is and if someone is going there thinking that they'll get an education on what the history/definition of fakelaki is then they are going to be severely disappointed.

And as to all the posting lately. I don't know what to tell you other than apparently I am finding things to write about/thinking I have really funny things to say. (Please don't ruin this moment for me)

Bigamist

So apparently I got married this weekend. I know what you're thinking but I am the victim here. In fact this is still so shocking to me I can barely believe it. I woke up to the proof of it Sunday morning, pictured below.




As you can see it's on my right hand. I just keep telling Isaac that his grandmother gave me a piece of her costume jewelry and laughing nervously. My new husband who I call Hank (apparently his full name is Hankadalberto) thought it would be respectful to Isaac (as if) if he put it on my right hand so he wouldn't have to take off my current wedding ring. His mother Linda (pictured below) I know is the culprit. Just look at her laughing it up knowing that her whole plan was coming together.



Susie (my first mother in law) told me later that she heard Linda mumbling to herself saying things like "my little Addy (yes that's apparently what she calls him) and Sari" and "a match made in heaven". Susie thought it was strange but not totally abnormal for Linda. I'm surprised I even made in on Linda's radar. After all I'm not Italian and their family is like 100% Italian. Also Linda's mother called me an imbecile, so I'm a little afraid to spend time with her. But apparently Italian mamas get what they want and Linda was hellbent on having me for her son. I'm expecting my full immersion course with Linda's mom (I jut hope her opinion improves of me) soon. I don't really know what I'll tell Isaac since I know I'll be locked away in a condo in Portland until I can at least fake being 100% Italian. So soon I'll be speaking like I'm from the mother country or the Bronx, I'm not sure yet. I will also (according to Linda) be able to make, gnocchi, ravioli, tortellini, and pasta sauce with my eyes closed. I just hope Linda's mom doesn't try to knead my belly.

I still don't know how I'm going to become accustomed to my new double life. I guess I'll be living the Italian life with Hank when I'm not living the American life with Isaac. The details are sketchy. The last I knew I was at Isaacs grandma's 75th birthday party and then next thing I knew I was waking up with that rock on my finger. I knew something was up when Linda kept handing me drink after drink swearing it was water. She's also making up this fantastical story of how I offered to be her daughter in law. Or really, to listen to her I was begging, in front of Isaac no less! I just know she had it in her head that somehow once I became her daughter in law we could have slumber parties where we iron our hair. I really have to introduce that girl to a straight iron. Hello, 21st century?

Not to mention I haven't even met Hank! I only know his first name, the last one is a little fuzzy. I mean how much can I really remember when Linda gave me enough sedative for a Kodiak? I've received one e-mail from him (apparently he's shy, I knew Linda was behind it) where he talked about how he really wished he would have been named Giacomo (I mean really, Hankadalberto?) but it's a little late now. That's how I found out that I'm going to be holed up in Lindas mom's condo. He said he was really sorry but he thought I was cute and that he thought that he would to quote him "grow on me". Hmmm, I don't know if that really sounds very promising.

So I'm in a pickle, but I know I'll find a way out some how. Just look at poor little Susie (pictured below with Linda) she didn't even know it was coming.