06 November 2009

7 Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 4)


Remember how I said I thought I might be developing Restless Leg Syndrome? Because of how my legs had been all, you know, restless and whatnot at night for over a month before that? (And they were! I swear! My legs were DRIVING ME CRAZY with their restlessness!) Well, the very next night after I mentioned it on here, I never had another symptom again. Not during another single night. Completely cured. Apparently my powers of suggestion extend so far as to eliminate anything I might ever suggest I have. Which now leads me to say that I also believe myself to have the flu, typhoid fever, Parkinson's, every type of cancer, MS, infertility, gout, shingles, a severed arm, a tilted uterus, an allergy to werewolf bites, Alzheimer's, and also that pesky inability to fly.


I went to the store today to buy some ice cream (if there is no ice cream in the house, there might as well be no oxygen), but in making my way through the deli area whilst taking part in a few cheese samples (what I just said about ice cream? Same goes for cheese. Every bite of cheese is my favorite cheese), the man behind the counter let me know that all cheese was 25% today. He then proceeded to tell me that the individually wrapped cheeses (this was the fancy cheese department, not the lowly, poor man's Kraft cheese area, scoffs I) did not have the sale price on them since they didn't have time to go through and remark all the customized-by-weight price tags (which he said in the same please-forgive-me-I-beg-of-you tone he would use to tell me he had just ran over my cat), but that all I needed to do to determine the sale price was to subtract 25 cents per dollar that the cheese cost. Thank goodness men like him exist so that they may help all of us who never graduated 2nd grade mathematics.

Don't get me wrong, he was nice and all, but it scares me to think that we live in a world where adults need to be instructed how to calculate a quarter percentage off of $5.

But then I bought some nice pieces of Gruyere and Parmigiano Reggiano, and magically the fear melted away.


Now I'm going to take a break from my usual snarkiness and post this here youtube video that absolutely guts me every time.

Really, I should just embed this video 7 times and call it a day. It has far more value than anything else I have to say here.

Then again, you can just as easily press play 7 times in a row (or a million, like I have), in which case I still have four things to come up with.


At first I was starting to think that this Friday thing I do here is a bit silly given the fact that I've so far only managed to post one other entry a week, but then I realized that at least this MAKES me post something on a (somewhat) regular basis. And if it wasn't for 7QTF, you'd be stuck with just that one lonely post a week.

And don't say that'd be an improvement. Hmph.


I didn't take that daycare job at the church. Just couldn't do it. Not with me going to Disney next year. Also, because I wasn't offered the job. Ha! No, they gave it to someone - as I predicted - with actual teaching credentials, and honestly, I was a bit relieved. I didn't have to lie in Church about how yeah, I'm TOTALLY in for the long haul, when I'm actually leaving in two months. And I also didn't have to worry about the fact that they actually wanted me to come up with my own teaching regimen and run the class like an actual Pre-School (which is practically Kindergarten, which is practically middle school, which is practically college, and let's face it - do I seem like Professor material to you?) rather than a crappy daycare where parents don't care what the hell the kids learn/don't learn so long as they don't have to do anything as prosaic as raise their own kids, pish posh!

But I did get a (very) part-time nanny job for a woman with two young boys, and that's going well. It's still not quite enough hours for me to justify quitting my current job, but, eh, I figure I can tough it out for another month or so. I'll live.


I'm sewing another skirt! (Does that really call for the exclamation point, though? Eh, it's already there, so I'm gonna leave it.) Since my Halloween skirt turned out decently enough, I decided to make one without dozens of non-double-entendre balls hanging off of it. You know, a skirt I could wear in public without all the questions. It's blue and green and beautiful so far! I'll finish it tomorrow and post pictures...eventually.


Finally (thank GOD), I asked my mom about two weeks ago what she wants for her upcoming birthday, and she told me. And did I write it down? No, because I'm 24, which means I know everything and remember everything and am perfect in anyway and why on earth would I write something down when I only need to retain the information for 5 more weeks, and anyone who can't remember a gift idea for FIVE MEASLY WEEKS deserves to be shot. SHOT I SAY. From the toes all the way up to the head. Slowly. Very slowly.

Except I totally forgot what she wanted. I forgot I had even asked her until I asked again last night, and she reminded me that I asked and THAT SHE TOLD ME. I then tried to remember what in the world she said she wanted - I at least remembered it was a DVD of some musician, which only narrows it down to about a million possibilities. But we had watched the 30 Rock episode right before this conversation, and since Liza Minnelli had been mentioned in passing, she somehow got stuck in my head and was the only singer-ish person I could think of. Her and Mama Cass, though I can't really explain that one.

Neither of them were correct.

Anyway, if anyone has any idea what musician a soon-to-be 57 year old woman would want on DVD, please let me know. My mom never did remind me, the cagey wench.

Whom I love.


EDIT: WAIT, NO I'M 23! 23 years old! How the heck do I not even know my own age?! I genuinely have been living the past 10 minutes under the impression that I was 24 (perhaps longer if we assume take into account the thoughts of my subconscious). Ugh, I need a drink.

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