You know all of those online sites like facebook, friendster, etc.? Well they always ask who you "would like to meet." I suppose this is for those who use such sites to meet people (which I am not against, just not for myself, thanks). After a week at home on vacation, I'm tempted to write in the blank:

"Someone who finds the ability to do crossword puzzles and sudoku incredibly sexy. Especially in flannel pajamas, with a huge cup of coffee."

Because really, what could be a better morning than that?

When you're stuck with day, that's gray and lonely...

Or all of the bad news just starts to get to you:

www.happynews.com

Enjoy!

The first step is admitting you have a problem

I'm a little embarassed to admit it, but I REALLY like that Howie Day song "Collide." You know, it's the one they play as a promo for practically every movie coming out that involves romancy stuff (including Pride and Prejudice, however inappropriate the tune is for period piece love stories).

Perhaps it's my inner 13-year-old that digs the cheesy tune and lyrics.

Ew

Tonight I learned something I could have easily gone my whole life without knowing.

There are these little bugs. They're called fungal gnats. They like to eat plants. Specifically, a mum that I had moved up to my room to keep it out of the way of the guests at our holiday party. That last detail is important.

When I went into my room tonight, there was an actual infestation of gnats all over my curtain and on the wall up by the ceiling. I was (and still am) understandably grossed out. It was not so bad at first; bugs don't really bother me. But after going through three strips of tape on my lint roller that emerged covered in little tiny bugs, well...it's starting to get to me. So I'm sleeping on the couch tonight. I can't handle the thought of sharing my room with the gnats. I will strip and clean everything tomorrow. In the meantime, there's a bowl of red wine vinegar and baking soda diluted with water, which according to the internet will trap and drown the little bastards.

My nose itches. And my collarbone. And my ankle...it's going to be a long night.

Winter Wonderland

We had our first snowfall in DC the other night. Now, this obviously is not my first winter here, but it is my first winter with a car. I knew there would be some differences, but wasn't particularly worried about it.

So yesterday when I came out to drive to work at my usual time, I stopped and thought, "Crap, there's a lot of snow on my car." And then I thought, "Hmm...I wonder how I'm going to get it off." Because, you see, in just sort of anticipating the fact that it would be cold and snowy and such, it never actually occurred to me to buy stuff like ice scrapers or brushes or whatever other accessories one might need to clean snow or ice off a car. In Texas, when there is snow or ice or really just light snow flurries, EVERYTHING shuts down and people run for their lives to get the essentials from the grocery store because it could be a WHOLE DAY before you get to move around again. And really, crazy as it seems, this is how it should be. When the weather is that gross, I think we should all be able to stay in our warm pajamas and fuzzy slippers and watch daytime TLC or whatever Christmas shows are on the family channel. We should not have to pile into galoshes and heavy coats and dig our cars out and slide along to a day of non-essential work that could be accomplished another time.

So the end of my first attempt at digging out my car: I got to work twenty minutes later than normal (not anticipating, once again, the extra time it would take to do the digging) and I shredded up this magazine thing that had been on the floorboard of my car for who knows how long. It doubled very nicely as a shovel of sorts.