Monday, October 28, 2013


If you don't like entitled white people first world problem complaining....go away. It's about to get real superficial up in here.

My hair is really long. But it's not just long, it's thick. I haz a lot of hair. It's a giftcurseblessing. My dad likes to say, "You've always had the hair," like the hair is the thing to have but I don't think he remembers the blatantly bald state of my cranium for the first few years of my baby life. I think I turned four and woke up with a lion's mane...

(actual childhood photo. #throwback)
(by the way, I'm joking. image via the goog)

In any case, my hair gets super long and I donate it. Repeat. 
It's a simple cycle and one that I've enjoyed. I have no deep connection to my hair and it is no great loss to me when I cut it all off. I don't weep or lament the "shick" sound as the scissors gnaw against the blockade of strands and the stylist inevitable gasps, "You just might break my scissors!" and I feel rather like Mia Thermopolis...

I may not be attached to my hair but I am, however, rather fond of my glasses. 
The point that I'm trying to get to is that the past couple days have been slightly horrific. Starting with my attempts at putting together a Halloween costume by putting my hair up in sponge rollers.
It took around 50 minutes of hot, arm-numbing work, and multiple moments of despair. I did end up succeeding. And naturally, like the excellent social media addict that I am...I did not get a picture before leaving for de partee. 
As hellish as putting my mane into the rollers had seemed, it was nothing compared to the murderous rampage vied against my poor scalp as I tried to remove them that night. I had planned to leave them in over night and see what happened in the morning but, turns out, it's kind of impossible to sleep with a lumpy torture contraption strapped to your head with your actual hair.
I ended up with wadded, tangled bits of hair wrapped so tightly around the rollers I begged Mark to just cut them out. But he was patient (if infuriatingly humored) with my predicament and tried as gently as he could to unknot the bits of hair off the ends of the curlers and return my hair to it's uninhabited state.

Luckily, this was never meant to turn out pretty. I put very little effort into strategically placing the curlers so thankfully I was not ever expecting a usable 'do out of all that. But my goodness, it turned out pretty awful. The back didn't curl at all and, obviously, my short bangs did not receive the process well. But if I ever want to be George Washington for Halloween, I have a spiffy method. 
So that was great, I took lots of painkillers and slept on my poofy coiffure and sore scalp.

Then on sunday I attempted a completely simple hairstyle just to get the hair out of my way and off my neck and it completely resisted every effort I made...for like, fifteen minutes. And my hair tie snapped. 

My husband says, "Why don't you just leave your hair down more often?"
Why don't you wear a cat around your neck? It's too hot here for that, you cray son?! Ugh, men. He also suggested maybe it's time to go get it cut when he originally proposed that I wait till spring when I had been debating donating it a few weeks ago and when I asked why he changed his mind he said,
"I didn't realize you were gonna complain about it this much."
Well then, McSassy Pants.

So I wore it down today, per his genius idea and all day I've been pulling the Ariel...

Except unfortunately I'm not that flirty, or cute, or ginger.
Basically my hair is at it's tantrum stage and is being a meany poop bucket of angst. I envy all you messy bun wearers and ponytail enablers. 
And at the end of the day, I do still love my hair. It's a complicated relationship.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Tell me I'm not crazy

I think I just had a drunk-genius idea.
Like the kind of idea that seems so brilliant and amazing in that glorified moment but you tell somebody and they're like, "Um. Go home. You're drunk."

I was enjoying some pet gifs on buzzfeed when the Name Gods blessed me with a vision of our future pets and the Universe was like, "And their names shall be 'Bleep' and 'Bloop' and don't question my wisdom," and I laughed to myself and was like, "Dang Universe! That's clever!"
But I told my husband and he was like,
"lol no"

Is that like, no no? You just mean you think I'm funny and it's silly but totes brilliant, right?
But then he goes, "See you at home" and leaves work, and thus our g-chat!

Wait, but really....can we name them that? It's funny! IT'S FUNNY.
This conversation is not over. I am prepared to defend my idea! Gird thine loins, mine espoused, for word battle.

Just in case y'all have been judging me 
or dissatisfied with my blogging as of late.
I have loads of pictures.
But they're all on my camera.
So I should download them to my computer, no?
Well, my computer is in shambles at the moment.
Not "broken" shambles, thank goodness.
But seriously, my monitor is upstairs,
my tower is in a completely different room,
I'm not sure where my mouse and keyboard are...
let alone my cable to transfer the pictures.
So bear with me and my useless,
pointless posts.
Until I get my life together, mkay?
Much obliged.

also, also.
apparently man faces are how I express myself.


Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Certain people are the greatest

Remember how two months ago I made friends with the one person at my work location I was absolutely sure would end up beating me to a pulp and then eating me and spitting me out into the gutter?
Of course you don't. No worries, my friends copy and paste got yo backs.

"OMGSH Gaiz, literally right now, we have a guy in the warehouse who is tall and hairy and tatted and scary and reminds me of the mailroom guy from "Elf" and he just came and leaned over my desk and whispered, "I like to whisper, too" and I looked up at him and whispered back, "Whispering is my favorite!" and he smiled because I understood the reference and I feel like I just befriended the Hulk. Like, I don't even care what happens the rest of the day."

So that happened. And it was glorious.
He has also made it a habit of coming up to my desk to get some peanut m&m's and always, always, spoons out a single blue m&m and gives it to me. I don't know why blue, but that's just what he did and continues to do. Sometimes I didn't know whether to feel offended for being intimidated into taking food from this guy but then it's chocolate so I don't mind. Plus blue is my favorite after brown (obviously).
Recently we've run low on peanut m&m's but the bag of plain m&m's has been stationed at the back of the office in the break room.
About ten minutes ago he came up to the sad little bowl with two lonely m&m's left and said these beautiful words,
"You see them trying to sabotage our relationship, Hope?"
I replied that they're all just jealous and he picked out the last blue m&m in the bowl and gave it to me.

Favorite coworker. Hands down.

Maybe I relate a little too well...

Thanks to the marvelous Katilda, I have found a beautiful website that speaks quite eloquently to my soul. 
What are the Garfield comics without Garfield? A "journey deep into the mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness and depression in a quiet American suburb."
And it's wonderful.
Some of my personal favorites from my perusal thus far.

K, but srsly.
All comedic credit goes to Dan Walsh and Jim Davis.
Excuse me while I click "previous comic" for dayzzzz.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Oh, my little geeky heart

Owl City makes me wish I could paint.
If I ever "make it big" and can give myself a nice art room and not care about using up my paints I'll just put Owl City records on repeat and waste a day throwing acrylics at a canvas and see what happens.
I mean, really?! These lyrics!

I saw the autumn leaves peel up off the street,
take wing on the balmy breeze and sweep you off your feet. 

You blushed as they scooped you up on sugar maple wings,
to gaze down on the city below, ablaze with wondrous things.

Downy feathers kiss your face and flutter everywhere.
Reality is a lovely place but I wouldn’t want to live there.

I wouldn’t wanna live there!

Weighed down by heavy lids and lunar lullabies,
I knew you were wide awake because you smile with your eyes.

Downy feathers kiss your face and flutter everywhere.
Reality is a lovely place but I wouldn’t want to live there.

From the green belt balcony, the wildfires look so pretty.
Ponderosa canopy, I’d never leave if it were up to me.
To the ruby redwood tree, and to the velvet climbing ivy:
painted all mahogany, I’d never leave if it were up to me.

If it were up to me.

With a starry brush, paint the dusk venetian blue,
because in the evening hush, you’ll never believe the view.
And when the leaves return and their whisperings fill the night,
they’ll freeze and burn where fire and ice collide.

Can you feel a silk embrace in the satin air?
If we dissolve without a trace, will the real world even care?
Downy feathers kiss your face and flutter everywhere.
Reality is a lovely place but I wouldn’t want to live there.

I wouldn’t want to live there!

I saw the autumn leaves peel up off the street,
take wing on the balmy breeze and sweep you off your feet.

How do I even?
Words are hard.
But not for Adam, apparently.
Srsly, dood.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Fangirling for Seasons

Fall is totally my favorite. Totes.

  • I actually want to do chores. What? Going home, changing into some nice comfy sweatpants and clearing up clutter, mopping the floor, and taking the trash out sounds nice. Because I won't end up sweating profusely and wasting valuable life-energy in the blazing heat of Arizona year-round. (we pretend in these Autumn months. Close enough.)
  • Scarves. Boots. Beanies. I hate gloves. But other people can pull it off. Basically layers. YUS.
  • Breezes. Cool breezes. Not that morning breath of Satan business.
  • Being able to hike without feeling like a contestant in a survival contest.
  • If I lived anywhere remotely green, the color changing. Just nature in general.
  • SOUP.
  • And Thanksgiving. Let's just take a gander at that list, shall we?
    • pie
    • mashed potatoes
    • turkey
    • ham
    • dinner rolls the size of Texas (they're called Texas rolls, that's what they mean right?)
    • ALL of the pie
    • fancy salads of all races (no discrimination)
    • funeral potatoes
    • candy corns
    • I can't even continue...
  • Morning fog halos. 
  • Breath clouds.
  • First frost.
  • TV shows start up again! (Sidenote: How did we ever keep up with all our shows last season?? I don't even know what's happening in half the shows we used to be caught up on...)
  • Um, hot cocoa and apple cider? Hullo?
  • Halloween and ALL the candy.
  • Again, if I lived somewhere that was actually cool...raking. I love raking. Shoot, now I'm feeling nostalgic. 
Basically, I need Fall in my life.
Not, like, oh look, it's the autumnal equinox. No, I need all ^that^ stuff. Excuse me while I go house hunting in Colorado, or Georgia (because my business trip basically ruined my romanticized outlook on Arizona), or Oregon, or Washington, or Sweden.
Wait, what?

OH. And the movies this year are killing it.

Frozen? Rugged mountain men with pet moosen? Disney, you slay me.

^Me, tripping all over myself getting in line for movie tickets.

Ender's Game. ENDER'S GAME. Harrison Ford, Asa Butterfield, the most faith-instilling trailer of all time. Seriously, I was exceedingly skeptical (as was my husband) until that trailer came along. Crossing my fingers, peeps.

Thor: The Dark World. THOR, THOR, THOR, THOR.
(I've already had my say about this for reminders).

The Book Thief. My inner bookworm is screaming. And elated. 

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. DOOOOD.

(Also exciting; catering advertisements to current social media trends and making movie poster gifs a thing. Although that's a terrible loop. Nice try, guys.)

The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. YAAAAASS.

Random, but...^that's basically my husband in 15 years and if he ever grew dreds.


Saving Mr. Banks. I've also already had my say about how excited I am for this film but OHMGSH I need to just apologize now to whoever has to sit next to me during this movie. There will be a lot of emotions. Openly expressed and awkward emotions.

(That was an awful episode. And by awful I mean 
wonderful and horrible and awesome and poor, poor Sam.)

In other news...
No idea what is happening here, but it's so fabulous I don't even care.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

In which I use WAY too many gifs...

I am swiftly finding that I seem to be very alone in my circle of friends in my understanding of the "Loki" fascination. I do not share in the Loki fangirl syndrome, but I can understand where they are coming from and would like to take the opportunity to present the case of "Why Tom Hiddleston would make the best significant other" to my skeptic friends.

As much as I do not pine for Loki, I do however think Tom Hiddleston is the cutest thing since fluffly puppies.
A) Speaking of 'bout dat hurr?

I just want to pet him. On the head! No, not that head....guh. /facepalm

B) He has a polite smile that spouts magical joy rainbows.

C) His grin calls all the small, wide-eyed baby animals to the yard.

D) He does things with his lips and then BAM, another smile. Hook, line, and sinker baby.

E) He's an adorable fanboy himself.

F) His slight beardage is the perfect balance of groomed classy and just enough mystery that I want to touch it...desperately.

Scruffy lookin' nerf-herder never looked so heartwarming.

G) He has idealistic romantic views on love.

Please be my boyfriend and teach me this "true meaning" of which you speak.


H) Also applicable; his acting

I) He would always be happy to see you show up at his work...

(probably not though, do not attempt)


On a scale of 0 to TH's right eyebrow, how sassy are you?

L) He doesn't take himself too seriously.

Really though.

M) He is discreet.

[insert non-existent shirtless pics because SELF RESPECT]

(Yes, I searched. Diligently.)

N-R) He's an A-list smiler gaiz.

S & T) Blows kisses. BLOWS KISSES.

U & V) He makes great faces.

W) He's not afraid to be a creeper.

X) Self explanatory.

Y) Did I mention he's polite?

Z) I mean, come on now.

Even if you still don't absolutely adore Tom Hiddleston, can you at least now admit that the rest of us aren't completely bonkers for loving him?
And finally, who better than the crazy fans themselves to testify of the awesomeness?

^All true events.