Also, 'Close to You' is a helluva creepy song. Birds everywhere...

Sometimes I wonder about things that it has become apparent to me no one else wonders about.

Like when I was at the drug store today (in my mind all drug stores are named Revco because when I was learning words for things that's what they were called) buying Playtex, Always, Aquafresh, and an Oral-B Medium Bristle, I wondered not only what kind of vag/tooth crisis the people in the store thought I was undergoing (and if I added a diet vanilla creme soda to the mix what would that imply) but why, if there is no longer such a thing as a hard bristled brush, do they persist in 'soft' and 'medium?'

You can't have a medium without another category. There is no medium of two.

The UberTransFan was not intrigued. Instead I got yet another mild rebuke about how hard bristles are bad for your teeth and gums. To which I say, "Yes, but it feels so good."

In other news, I want to announce that I now have a legitimate reason to watch Bigfoot documentaries. And I'm strongly considering a fauxhawk.

Some days you're cereal free, and some days Earth Fare puts Puffins on sale.

I want to start a band, and I want my band to perform songs that exclusively suggest that we are leading secret double lives. Like Jem. Or Dazzler. Or that vampire huntery girl who that one roommate I had once liked but I didn't because of the amount of men she had detail-oriented sex with.

I almost said, 'Like SClub7,' but they really were a band, even if they were also pretending to be a band in a television show where they pretended to be actors and I pretended to prefer Rachel over Jo.

If you can't read this, click to enlarge. Heh.

I'm just saying that people like superheroes that are pretending to be rock stars. Why not be a rock star pretending to be a superhero?

Well, I think it would be funny, anyways.

This picture of the S Club 7 did not illustrate my point due to size and Jo being, as usual, shoved into the back of the shot, but I really liked it anyways because that's Jo's car and you know what? It's the S Club 7, and if I start defending myself about this then I won't be able to stop.

The little blond in front, by the way, is Hanna, and she was 'the dumb one,' which meant that even though she did sometimes dress like, well, that, I didn't have any patience for her.

Also the other blond on the right is a boy named John.

Goldfrank's Toxicologic Emergencies

Today's title is the name of the book my monitor is resting on. I bought it from the medical library for a dollar, along with what the entire Collective agrees is the funniest book they've ever seen. I'm too lazy to actually get up and go find out what the real title is, but we're calling it The Book of Unhappy Children. It's about the physical signs of seasonal allergies in children.

So it's a lot of pictures of children with stuffy noses and sinus headaches glaring at the camera.

We look at it when we need a schadenfreudic boost.

I'm on my way to bed, because I discovered that I was too tired to play SWTOR, and that means that I'm practically dead, but I wanted to share this with you. It's absolutely, 100% the most helpful book review in the history of book reviews. It really influenced my decision on whether or not to throw down the $2.99 on the Kindle edition of the book. I've copied and pasted it in its entirety here. Uncut, totally unedited.

Are you ready for this? It's super insightful. It's extremely honest. It will truly help you decide whether or not this book is worth reading.

"It's good, but I've read better."

Electric Tea Kettle Boogaloo

After typing this title, I looked up the word 'boogaloo' because that's what I do, and I found out that boogaloo is a style of Latin music and dance that was popular in the US in the 60s, apparently invented in NYC by those darn kids.

I also found this, which is just freaking awesome:

So really this post has nothing to do with boogaloo, because everyone who is anyone knows I can't dance. People living in Timbuktu know I can't dance. Today I learned about how Timbuktu and Portugal pwned the world for a little while, until Columbus ruined everything.

It has to do with electric tea kettles, though, because I was making tea when I sat down and started writing, and the kettle popped off about five minutes ago, and true to form, I've gotten busy and can't go make tea right at this moment. I'm just constantly boiling water. If there are ever any babies being born in the area I guarantee you I'm ready.

Today was a busy day; tomorrow isn't going to be much calmer. My job delivering newspapers has doubled in workload because now I'm the only distributor. (Distributor is the fancy thing you say now instead of 'delivery boy' because I'm demonstrably not a boy.) So I have two routes instead of one route, and that's six hours a week instead of three, and while I'm totally willing to do it because I get paid twice when I work twice, it's hard.

Plus I'm ticked off that the other distributor quit without giving any notice, and I hate to work mad.

Anyways, so my day went like this:

Wake up-aw damn it it's only 4am-back to sleep-6am wake up for real-get dressed-internet not working why-aw crap I spent so much time trying to figure out the internet that I'm late-ppppppppppaaaaaaaaaapppppppppppeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr route-CLASS OMFG I'M GONNA BE LATE-protein bar on the way to next class-forgot the other book she said we needed-change clothes in the parking garage hope no one sees me-drive drive drive to the winternship-coffee-I love my winternship-time to go running-forgot my Garmin and my headlamp-ankle hurts hope this isn't something permanent-time for dinner-slow internet means SWTOR still isn't playable-you should really go to bed now-nope can't blogging.

So now I'm trying to make tea so I can breathe. But first this blog.

Have some Baby Boogaloo. He helped me just now.

Rawr.

You'll notice there's a new count down clock. REPTAR!

Anyone who doesn't a) already know who reptar is or b) doesn't go look up reptar and think I'm being kinda cool and spunky for bringing him back into service should probably not be reading this blog. Isn't he obscenely happy? He's happier than unicorns. Multiple unicorns. Who have been eating cupcakes.

I haven't been eating cupcakes. Actually I've been eating grapefruit. I bought a 5lb bag because it was on sale for a dollar and they're delicious.

I'm writing this post for a couple of reasons. Number one being because I logged on to update the timer because seeing Space Ghost with all his zeroes was depressing and stupid. Srs.

Number two being the fact that I can't go play SWTOR, because I'm backing up all my files - cloud storage is the way, truth, and light - and I doubt my laptop and wifi connection would be able to handle all of that. It's going to take a million years to back up my music anyways. Periodically I think to myself, "You can't possibly ever listen to all this music, this is dumb," and then I think, "Yeah, but it's all free on NoiseTrade."

My brain, you know.

Anyways, Poco the Hotdog has stolen my blanket. I would post a picture of it, but it would just look like a pile of blankets with some bare toes next to them. And no one wants to see my toes, for real. That one toenail is turning black again.

This morning I ran sixteen miles. Because the Tobacco Road Marathon is on March 18th, and I totally signed up for it a while ago. And, you know, you have to train for these things.

Ah, me. Just... me.

I'm backing up all my files because I finished building Grendel's Mother today, and I can pull them down from the internet instead of...

Oh, yeah. Grendel's Mother. Well, you see, what had happened was...

I built a computer.

I did, yes. I bought it in little bits and pieces and took a bunch of wires and cables (and some screws) and put all those pieces together. And then I plugged it into the wall and it worked. I'm sure on the inside the Bearcat-Catbear was laughing at me hysterically but on the outside he was really nice and helpful.

I can't play with her until Monday, on account of these awesome dogs who need someone to steal blankets from, and I love them dearly. So she's there and I'm here and it's okay. She'll be there. She'll always be there. She's made of amazing.

And she'll love me because I built her with my own two hands. Truefax.

Stay tuned for more episodes from season three of Kate.

This is my impression of the Trans Siberian Orchestra.

"Hey, this music is great, but you know, I think we need lasers. More lasers. No, more than that. You know what else? Fire. I think there should be lots of fire. You're not listening to me. I said LOTS OF FIRE. And I need some goddamn girls in some goddamn catsuits to shake their goddamn hair. And you - you should shake your hair, too. We need a tower. We need, like, a tower that rises up from the ground and we're gonna be ON IT and there's gonna be SMOKE and FIRE and I AM NOT SEEING ENOUGH LASERS I AM BEGINNING TO DOUBT YOUR COMMITMENT TO SPARKLELASERFIRECATSUITHAIR MOTION!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Woke up and the WoW server was down, considered renapping.

So, I've had a crazy couple of days. Not crazy in the sense of anything bad happened, just that I had to be all these places and do all these things that all mattered enough that I couldn't just say, "Neh, busy, must ass-sit for that time instead."

The thing about me is that I require a certain amount of pressure-free time during a day, or else that day doesn't seem so nice to me and I consider things like slamming doors and kicking low brick walls. Running is one thing that sometimes fulfills this need for Me Time, but then sometimes I have to get a run done in a certain amount of time to get somewhere, and then running just becomes this other thing that I have to get done.

But I just took a three hour nap, which is a long nap for me, and I'm good. I decided to nap rather than watch a movie because I looked at it mathematically, and the amount of sleep I've had in the past few days = not enough.

I completely intended to share a revelation with you that I had on Friday, but I kept forgetting until right now, so here it is:

Indiana Jones' fear of snakes is totally legitimate and not a sign of comic weakness as we are lead to believe. Think about it. Here's a guy who knows that he can basically kill anyone or any thing that is going to try and ruin his day. BUT, if he is bitten by a snake, he's in basically the definition of the middle of nowhere. There's absolutely no way he'll be able to get to the anti-venom in time. He can't exactly shoot his way out of dying.

You can't do this to venom rushing through your bloodstream. Just saying.

While out for my run today, I had what I think could be a really cool idea, if I could somehow combine with someone with more drive and energy than me. I'm calling it the White Rabbit Race series.

The idea is, sometimes it's fun to go out and not know exactly where your running route is going to take you. And it's also fun to have some kind of... accountability for what you're running. You want someone to know that today you planned to run and then ran six miles, etc. And races are fun, but you don't always have that specific time open or money to sign up.

Enter the White Rabbit. My idea is, map several courses of varying distance around Greensboro, and mark them with white spray-paint stencils. Not just any stencils, but stencils of rabbits pointing the direction you're supposed to go - small markers at turns, like little bike sharrows. So then you "follow the white rabbit."

And you could build a community website around them, where people sign up and then log the details of their runs, times, pace, etc. And it would be like a race series, except you do each race on your own time and you never know who else is following the white rabbit.

What do you think? Cool idea?

Today happens to be the UberTransFan's birthday, which was another reason to take a nap. Plans involve staying up as long as it takes to be able to run a dungeon as a household (by which I mean as long as it takes to get the Little Monster to go to bed).