things be gettin' real up in hurr.

the knuckle tatts are back. with a vengeance.

things started simple enough... sara wanted to reintroduce my thug life.

that sparked a hallway fad. i took a break from accounting, and started demanding to see some knuckles. everyone i got to walked away with a sweet gangsta persona (or something like it).

just for kicks and giggles, marina found this:

be afraid. or we'll smerf you in the esophogus with our new, intimidating knuckles. more likely, we'll just bare our knuckles at you and give you our most gangstalicious face (see immediately above). anyway, if you want some sweet tatts, you know where to come.

as a fun corollary, can you spot what's wrong with my renewed thug life tat? brownie points to whoever figures it out first.

Happy Death Poems

Yes. You read that right. Happy death poems. We had a contest to see who could write the best happy poem about death. Katie and Marina and I each wrote 3, and then we had Jessie be the judge. However, she was indecisive, so we called in Leah to be a guest judge. She, also, couldn't decide between two of them, so we called in Emily, Vanessa, and Nicole to have the final say. Here are the contestants:

Sara:

I'm writing of death.

And yet I am so happy.

I am the winner.

One day there was a man named Frank.

He was angry and tried to rob a bank.

So he ran through the door

And fell to the floor.

Turns out he was killed by a tank.

According to Gandalf, when you die

You don't get a huge face full of cow pie

You see silver gates

And your old dead mates.

So don't be scared as your body begins to fry.

Marina:

Hiding in the tree-

the big deer walks by at last-

perfect shot- got him!

He broke my heart again,

so I shot him in the head.

There was much rejoicing.

I chased after it for hours

almost got it near the flowers

when I tripped over that vase

I saw it laughing in my face

but that fly no longer cowers.

Katie:

there was a dead girl.

she died laughing at our blog.

totes a true story.

sara just told me

i have to write another.

dolphins are the worst.

guys, i hate haikus.

really, i hate writing these.

vote for me, i'm best.

Leah:

i savor the smell

when i am in the bathroom

unclogging toilets

Random Other:

Don't dwell on revenge.

Anger not at stupid folks.

They all end up dead.

The winner ended up being the one about the tank, but it is still a confused and insecure victory, as none of our judges were incredibly sure about their choices. Oh well.

Comment and/or vote! Which one do YOU think should win as the happiest death poem???

our new friend.

i was talking to sara about the nice opthamologist i met last friday. she reminded me that he was actually a phlebotomist. then asked me if i knew what an opthamologist was, anyway. yes, i do- it's an eye doctor. then marina had to show us up. we're both wrong- eye doctors are called optometrists. then we started talking about optomologists, and got all turned around trying to figure out what an optomologist and opthamologist is. we still aren't sure.

but i digress.

last friday, i met a nice phlebotomist (guys, that word is spelled right- i googled it!). i went in to give blood after physical science and was settled with a phlebotomology (that one is probably definitely misspelled) expert named landen. remember that one time i explained how i'm crazy, but i try to dole it out? well that went out the window in his presence. i'm a rambler. that much is painfully clear if you actually read the whole first paragraph. when i'm nervous (i get realll scared when i give blood), things get much stranger.

turns out my phlebotomologist friend is good at rolling with the punches. when i accused him of not doing his job right, he didn't jab the needle in harder. when i panicked because i almost fell out of my tilty chair, he showed me how it goes back and forth just a weensy woony bit and told me to cool it- it's not an exercise chair. when jessie mentioned that she drinks blood sometimes, he was only mildly alarmed. most importantly, he only gave me the "wow this girl is insane" side glances a few times. guys, he's a pro.

finally, before i left, he asked me which color gauze i wanted him to wrap my arm with. i told him i wanted both. he asked what color i wanted first, to which i replied "surprise me." surprise me he did.

that's a bow, you guys! a bow, on top of the regular wrap!

anyway, sorry if you were hoping for a real story, and you read all this just to find out i'm done, and there wasn't even a point to this post. jeez, cut me some slack, it's two in the morning and i've been working on accounting homework for at least five of the last eight hours (ok, ok, at least 90 minutes of that five hours was spent smerfing the internet). on that note, night night, don't let the bed bugs bite!

-katie

...and that's why you shouldn't leave Katie and me alone with your computer

i have a dream.

i have lots of dreams, actually. in fact, i spend a good deal of my nights dreaming (and not getting proper sleep), which is why i have the under eye circles of a meth addict.

sometime in the last few days, i had a dream in which i was a contestant on a game show about neat freaks. if you have a messy room, you're off the show. serious business, guys. in that dream, the judges came to my room while it was a mess, so i begged them to give me another chance. after they agreed, i made jessie and marina move all my crap into their room, so it'd look like i'm a neat person. they came back, and i was approved for another episode. and that was the end of that dream.

now normally i don't have dream sequels... except for this morning. i dreamed that i could hear the tv crew next door, making a surprise cleaning check. i knew i was next, but the room was a mess, and smerf it, i wanted to win that show!

when i'm tired, i don't think right. last night, we had an impromptu 2am pizza party, so suffice it to say that i was extremely tired this morning. so tired, that i actually got up, out of bed, and started cleaning, so i wouldn't be disqualified from the competition. no joke. after about ten minutes, i realized that it wasn't real and i could probably go back to sleep, but by then i was invested in this chore, and too tired to understand that i was behaving like a crazy person. so i just kept cleaning.

finally, i crawled back into bed, satisfied with a room neat enough to pass a cleaning check for the most boring reality tv show ever. not the strangest thing i've done while semi-sleeping, but it makes the top five for sure. on the bright side, i can't remember when the last time my desk was so neat.