Fat Tuesday and other Guilty Pleasures

So today was Fat Tuesday. Also: I've decided that tomorrow will be Fat Wednesday, and Thursday will be Fat Thursday. Oh what the hay, I might as well declare March "Fat Month." Or maybe I should just chuck all my healthful, good intentions right now and designate 2009 "Fat Year." Oh wait...that was 2008...and 2007. I'm a FPOS (Fat Piece Of Shit) and I know it, but it's nice to have a day where I'm actually supposed to eat my weight in marshmallows. And lord knows, I always do what I'm told.

I decided to make today all about guilty pleasures. So I put Ashlee Simpson's "Autobiography" on repeat, gave myself a full hour to just sit and think about Dawson's Creek, watched "The Firm" starring Tom Cruise (whose erratic public behavior the past few years and Scientology-Matt-Lauer-Brook-Shields-I-live-on-a-compound craziness has forced me to relegate him to my list of guilty pleasures), and spent a good forty-five minutes researching "new ways" to solve the Rubik's Cube online.

I'm sure you all know that my biggest guilty pleasure is food--namely chocolate candy, white cake with white icing (I'm a cake racist), anything with a cream center, hamburgers with mayonnaise and ketchup, cheese pizza, Doritos, Cherry Coke, and movie theater popcorn--all of which have led me to the current state of hypertensivity that I now enjoy. According to my nutrition textbook (I'm currently taking an online nutrition class for my nursing prerequisites), I should be following a diet called DASH. Don't you just love acronyms? I do. Add acronyms to my list of guilty pleasures. I'm out of the acronym-loving closet. Stone me, I don't care. I fucking love acronyms. Anyway, DASH stands for Dietary Approaches to Stop Hypertension and it involves eating a lot of (guess what?) fruits, vegetables, and low-fat dairy products (This means you, plain yogurt)! I was pretty sure the diet plan was going to be more like, pizza pizza broccoli hamburger apple hoagie croissant double fish filet eclair orange...but I'm wrong all the time.

But why rely on someone else's old, dirty, used-up acronym when I can make up my own? So, I have. Forsaking "Fat Year," (head hung and heart heavy, mind you) I've come up with my very own diet-plan acronym! Drumroll please. It is: DETS. As in, I've got a DETS to society. As in: I've eaten so much junk food during my 26 years on God's green Earth that I have probably personally contributed to the starvation of little 12-year-old Babatunde in Africa, and now I need to repay my DETS to society. Because, I can't stop at just one Cadbury Creme Egg. For every four Cadbury Creme Eggs I eat, that's one less Cadbury Creme Egg for Babatunde. I'm sure you're dying to know...what does DETS stand for?

It stands for: Don't Eat That Shit

So now, whenever my cart at Big Lots is loaded with Planter's Cheez Balls, Funyuns, Rolos, and Storck Chocolate Riesen, I think to myself DETS and I throw something back. This whole "DETS" idea is bound to keep me thin (my goal is to be as thin (and as awesome) as Mary-Kate Olsen by 2010!) and my conscience clear!!

I hope that every once in a while, you let yourself enjoy a guilty pleasure, especially if it is a white chocolate Kit-Kat bar. Those are unbelievable. But, if you're ever in the mood to be healthy, just say to yourself: DETS! I haven't tried it yet, but I'm pretty sure it works like crazy.

**Please click the links in this post. They're hilarious. Let me just say...a hotline for Planter's Cheez Ball info? That is priceless, and also necessary. I think all Cheez-flavored snack foods should have their own hotline. And I'd like to be the one who mans the phones. And: they really don't make commercials like they used to. What? Astronauts eat Rolos? You had me at chocolate-covered caramel. No need to oversell. And: check out the shorts on the Storck Chocolate Riesen kid. You're laughing, but next spring I guarantee Garrett Neff is wearing those at Fashion Week. Also: I'm pretty sure what the Storck Chocolate Riesen commercial is really saying is this: if you eat Storck Chocolate Riesen, you will grow up to be a creepy pedophile who also leers at old ladies.

"You commie, homo-loving sons of guns!"

Finally, my sedentary lifestyle is beginning to pay off!! Yesterday, I went to the movies with my parents, as is our Sunday afternoon ritual. We saw that raucous new cheerleader comedy (nothing like a cheerleader comedy to warm you up on a blustery February afternoon) Fired Up, starring Eric Christian Olsen and Nicholas D'Agosto (otherwise known as "West" from Season 2 of Heroes).

As we were standing in line to buy our tickets, I noticed a stack of papers that appeared to be fake-o Oscar ballots! Now, I know I'm not a member of the Academy (yet) (btw--"The Academy"--good name for a horror movie starring Judi Dench as the evil head-mistress), but I do so love filling out my very own Oscar ballot and seeing how many I get right! So of course, I snatched one right up. And only then did I realize that my very own Lapeer Cinemas was hosting a contest!! AS IN: fill out this ballot, turn it in before 5 pm Oscar Sunday, and the person who gets the most right wins 8 free movie passes. Seeing as how all I do is lay in bed and watch movies, and when I'm not doing that all I do is go on IMDB to research movies, and when I'm not doing that all I do is drive to Royal Oak so I can see "Rachael Getting Married" because God forbid it come to Lapeer--I know a lot about movies. I thought, I've got this competition LOCKED UP.

But then I looked at the ballot. There were 15 categories, including some rather challenging ones, like Best Foreign Language Film, Achievement in Visual Effects, Achievement in Cinematography, Achievement in Costume Design, etc., etc., along with the biggies (Best Picture, Best Actor/Actress, Supporting Actor/Actress, Best Director). They didn't show Best Documentary Feature any love. What gives, Lapeer Cinemas? That's one of my favorite categories. So anyway, I filled out my ballot and nervously slipped it into the ballot box. Watching the Oscars last night, I was like a gambling junkie at the race track. I was sweating and pacing and making promises to God. Because, not only were 8 free movie passes on the line--so was my pride. To my utter delight, I got 13 out of the fifteen categories right--including all of the really hard ones! "Hell yes!" I screamed aloud in my room when they announced "Departures" out of Japan as the winner of Best Foreign Language Film. "Hoo-rah!" I screamed when they announced "The Duchess" as winner in the Costume Design category. And because I know you're all wondering which ones I got wrong, I'll indulge you. Best Actor (Wtf, Academy? It was supposed to be Mickey Rourke!) and Best Original Screenplay (I picked "Frozen River"--maybe because I haven't seen "Milk" yet (Damn you Lapeer Cinemas for keeping "Hotel for Dogs" around for 6 consecutive weeks!)). So I got 13 out of 15 correct. Not too shabby, I thought. But would it be enough to win me the tickets? I didn't know.

Then...around 2 pm today I got a call from a Lapeer number that I didn't recognize! My stomach flipped. "Hello?" I said eagerly. "Hello, is this Liz Abruzzo?" a young woman (with complete and utter adoration in her voice) said. "Yes!" I screamed. "This is so-and-so"--I can't be bothered to remember peoples' names--"from Lapeer Cinemas and I'm calling to inform you that you won first prize in our Oscar Predictions Contest. You got 13 out of 15 categories correct." I sat in an amazed, elated silence. "Thank you!" I shouted into the phone. "You can come and pick up your prize of 8 free movie passes any time." After excitedly assuring her that I'd be right there, I hung up the phone and proceeded to race up and down the length of the loft apartment that I share with my parents, squealing and jumping around so much that I scared the cats.

It was like a dream.

8. Free. Movie. Tickets.

...And my pride.


I'd just like to thank all the people that have helped me make this dream come true: my parents for always allowing me to watch whatever I want, even Child's Play when I was six, my sister Gina, for helping me to bring one of my favorite characters ("Mother") to life in one of our own movies, Kate Bauer for sharing with me the love of ALL movies, not just the critically acclaimed ones (This means you, "Dante's Peak"), and all my devoted blog readers, without whom many of my movie-related rants and raves would go unheard. Thank you all! And also: DAAAANG...these free movie passes are heavier than they look!

 

Sunday, sunday, sunday

I probably should have done this a month or two ago, but today I'm prepared to write a list of resolutions. There is so much wrong with me that I need to fix, and I'm pretty sure that resolutions are the way to do that. Or maybe resolutions paired with intensive therapy and an open-ended course of anti-psychotic drugs.

I resolve to:

1. Go to baseball games this summer, hopefully with friends.

2. Make friends.

3. Stop being insecure around and afraid of people that I don't even like.

4. Buy a big canvas, I mean BIG, and paint some crazy abstract painting on it this summer. I will paint on my roof, because that is the perfect place to do it, and because we don't have a yard.

5. Stop feeling sorry for myself because we don't have a yard.

6. Learn to sail.

7. Go on a cool trip.

8. Actually start doing the things that I think about doing, that I want to do, like learn to sail and go on a cool trip.

My Morning

Woke up.

Opened my mouth wide to see if I could make my ear pop.

Turned on the shower.

While waiting for the shower to heat up, squirted warm water into my ear.

Got in the shower.

Knocked over my shampoo bottle and wondered, not for the first time, why the shampoo bottle is so much larger than the conditioner in this shampoo/conditioner set.

Got out of the shower.

Accidentally knocked my bra into the toilet, which I guess serves me right, since I left my fresh clothes for the day precariously perched atop the toilet tank.

Frustratedly put my pajama top back on, so I could go back to my room to get a new bra.

Returned to bathroom.

Dressed.

Went to kitchen, and looked nervously around for my mom, hoping not to run into her.

Put a bagel in the toaster.

Returned to bathroom.

Put my hair back.

Put on minimal amounts of makeup.

Returned to toaster.

Put Chive-flavored cream cheese on my everything bagel.

Got water from our awesome water cooler (it cools! it heats! it looks neat!)

Remembered that we have orange juice.

Silently bemoaned the fact that I already filled a cup with cold water when what I really wanted was orange juice.

Considered carrying two beverages into my room, before deciding against that ridiculous display of decadence.

Ate breakfast while watching the Real Housewives of Orange County season finale.

Thought to myself that if I wanted to blog about everything that annoys me about the RHOC, I would literally have to take notes while watching.

Threw up onto my cat when Tamra said that Slade "looked like a homo" because he was wearing white thong sandals!

Decided to become a cutter when Vicki bragged to numerous party guests (the RHOC were at a swanky end-of-the-season soiree) that she bought herself a Rolex and then added this aside: "I felt a little odd showing people a gift I bought myself. I didn't want to be saying, 'Look! I bought myself a Rolex because my husband can't do it!'"

Finally ripped myself away from the RHOC, comforting myself with the knowledge that when I got home from school I'd have episode 1 of season 2 of the Real Housewives of New York City to enjoy!

Go ahead and judge me, but watching the Real Housewives is kind of like being able to stare at a person with a goiter without feeling guilty or impolite.

The Wrath of Mom

...And the string of bad things happening to me lately continues. So: this morning, I go out to the kitchen to get some breakfast--a bowl of cereal, an orange, and an apple. I like to eat a big breakfast, in the hopes that it will stop me from eating mass quantities of marshmallow peeps later in the day.

I see my mom standing there. I say, "Good morning, Mom." She says, "So your dad was sick last night. I think he got the same thing you had. Now I'm worried I'll get it!" You should have seen the panic in her eyes. I said, "Well, if you don't feel sick, then you're probably not sick. It hits you pretty fast, at least it did with me." And I went about making my breakfast. As I poured milk on my cereal I said, "If you're worried about it, you could just not eat anything, because then you wouldn't have anything to throw up." I thought it was a smashing plan. Then she started angrily emptying the dish rack, slamming plates and cups noisily into the cupboards, and she said, "Well I am going to eat because I'm hungry! I'm going to have a bagel!"

I decided it would be a good time for me to leave. You see, my mom is often in a really, really bad mood in the morning. Yep. Pretty much every morning, I awaken to the sounds of her furiously slamming the washing machine lid or berating one of our cats for peeing on the bathroom scale. I know better than to get in her face about this behavior, as her bad mood has usually passed by the time I see her again later in the day.

But then I had to go back to the kitchen for a napkin... I walk in to find her heaving my empty milk carton and empty box of cereal onto the hardwood floor. You see, I had used up the last of the milk and the last of the cereal, so I left the empty box and the empty carton sitting on the counter as a reminder to myself to take them out to the trash. Emptying the trash in this household is a major point of contention, as we have only two very small trash receptacles, which fill up very quickly and need to be emptied pretty much every day. My mom always ends up emptying them (only because she makes a point to do it everyday! Not because we force her at gunpoint), so I guess she gets secretly mad at my dad and I for never doing it and then she lets her anger build up to the point of...throwing things.

Needless to say, we had a confrontation. Things were said. And now I feel sick to my stomach.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Hello you! Hello you wonderful Humane Egoist blog readers, you! I hope you're having a good day so far. I hope you woke up, took a lovely bath (complete with lavender bath salts and wilted rose petals), read two chapters of your favorite book, had some skillfully prepared Eggs Benedict and a mug of hot cocoa, said your daily affirmations, and dressed in a silk pantsuit (boy or girl--doesn't matter--a silk pantsuit always works!).



If you had a morning that went more like this: got up, peed, took a quick shower, looked at naked self in mirror and shuddered at/silently berated self for wrinkles, fat rolls, blemishes, skin discoloration, or other deformities, ate a Toaster Strudel on which the icing that you not-so-deftly applied to it looked nothing like the picture on the box, dressed in fraying jeans you bought at Wal-Mart, stepped in an icy puddle while walking to your car, spent 15 minutes scraping ice off of your car even though you had convinced yourself that this morning was definitely warm enough for there to not be ice on your car (spring is here! you convinced yourself, until you walked outside and realized that no, spring is not here. Father Winter's icy fingers are still wrapped tightly around your world, or at least your car), and sped away while wondering if that tiny brown freckle on your left index finger is melanoma, then your morning was much closer to mine. Well...minus the Toaster Strudel. My parents don't allow me to eat Toaster Strudel. I only wish I was allowed to eat Toaster Strudel.

I hope you all have been well since I last posted! I, sadly, have not been well. I had an ear infection. I had to go to a walk-in clinic. A doctor squeezed my armpits. A nurse told me my blood pressure was high. She tried to be nice and blame it on the BP cuff, but I know it's me. My car wouldn't start. My dad got it to start by popping the clutch. I said, "I'd like for someone other than you to tell me the car is ok." He said, "So now you're afraid to drive it!" He's scary when he shouts. He said, "Every time it won't start, just pop the clutch!" But I don't want to have to do that. Because you have to get the car rolling in order for that to work, and then jump in real quick and pop the clutch, and I feel that people would point and laugh if I was attempting to get my car rolling in the Genesys Regional Medical Center parking lot. I can't handle that kind of stress. I would get all sweaty. On Friday (the 13th), My Dad and I tried to go see Friday the 13th, but it was sold out. We had to see "Taken" with Liam Neeson instead, and on top of that, we walked in 20 minutes late and when we sat down, the couple that was sitting in our little 6-seat row (read: two empty seats between us and them) got up and moved away to the second row of the theater, which is (and I think we can all agree on this) not an ideal spot to sit, so they must have been really offended by our presence. On Valentine's night, I sat around in the dark feeling sorry for myself, even though that is a total cliche. Then I thought, I'll make myself feel better by cooking a really nice dinner. Then I got food poisoning. Or, it wasn't food poisoning, but it was some sort of flu bug that hit me all at once. It made me so sick that I threw up 6 times. Then I went to sleep. I slept for five hours straight, which made me happy because by the time I woke up I didn't feel sick anymore, but sad because I'd been planning to spend the day watching old episodes of Six Feet Under, as they are the only thing that make me happy of late...old episodes of Six Feet Under and Toaster Strudel, that is.

Comedy

I have an ear infection. SO: you guys get a funny video.

Demetri Martin Stand Up Presentation from Demetri Martin

Movie Trailer Magic

Hello and welcome to the latest installment of....MOVIE. TRAILER. MAGIC!!!! I've been sifting through trailers all morning and here are three that I think look pretty good. I've posted the ones that were available in HD in HD, so you may want to give your compy a little time to load up (Compy = computer (I like to shorten words that don't really need to be shortened, because I think it makes me sound cool...and well, I really need to feel cool sometimes because I'm incredibly insecure)) I think that extra loading time, by the way, is totally worth it.

So. Trailer # 1. "Sunshine Cleaning." It was produced by the same team who brought us "Little Miss Sunshine," which kind of leaves me wondering...can they make a movie that doesn't have 'Sunshine' in the title? Is that like...their 'thing'? But that's all beside the point. Steve Zahn. Need. I. Say. More.

Ok, Trailer # 2. "17 Again." Don't make fun of me for this one. I love movies where people go back in time and get to live part of their life over again. Or...movies where people wake up and suddenly their life is totally different, a la "The Family Man" or "Mr. Destiny." And they always realize whatever it is they're supposed to realize...and along the way we have some laughs. With this one, I find it a tiny bit hard to believe that Zac Efron grew up to be Matthew Perry. I'm just saying. I also love movies about people awkwardly trying to fit in in high school. You know, like "Carrie"? I get the feeling this movie is going to be a lot like "Carrie."

Trailer # 3. "The Last House on the Left." Oooooh. Yesssss. I love scary movies that don't involve angry earthbound spirits or videos that make you die when you watch them or washing machines that suddenly turn on for no reason and then when you lift the lid, there's a corpse inside. This is one of those movies that sort of dances along the border of horror and thriller. I love movies where people that you initially think are kind and wonderful and "wouldn't hurt a fly" turn out to be a little sadistic when it comes to fighting for their life and the lives of their family members. Plus, honestly, I would go see this movie for the title alone. It's a remake, though, so hopefully it can live up to the splendor of the original. One more thing: scenes of horror and tragedy set to the mournful sounds of a classic rock song as sung by a sad-eyed girl = movie trailer magic.

Gypsy

I wanted to write something cool this week. But then nothing cool happened. Usually something cool happens to me at least once a week. So, instead, I'll just tell you guys about all the strange or pseudo-interesting things I thought about or saw this week:

1. This isn't strange. I wish it was strange because then it wouldn't be common, but unfortunately it is (common). I went grocery shopping today, as I do about every other week or so. By the way: I've become the girl who grocery shops in dirty $7 imitation winterized Crocs and sweatpants. Don't you hate when you're shopping and there's a really annoying person standing directly in front of the thing that you want to grab? It's like, how the fuck long can someone look at toilet paper? This woman was just standing there today, with like this tortured expression, like it was Sophie's choice. So I just kind of stood near her, waiting and moving my cart around and picking random things up and then setting them back on the shelf. So anyway, she finally moves and I grab my toilet paper (after I agonized over which brand to buy for about twenty minutes...turns out it IS a tough decision) and then I headed over into the next aisle. And who do I see? Annoying standing-right-in-front-of-the-thing-I-want-lady, again! Don't you hate when you keep seeing the same annoying strangers when you're grocery shopping? It's like, ok, I ran over your toes in Dairy, then two aisles over you made an awkward comment about wanting to "try" olive oil (and I thought you were joking, because what kind of person has never tried olive oil? But it turns out you weren't joking, because you're weird, which I should've known since I've been grocery shopping before and I should know by now that everyone but me at the grocery store is weird), and now here you are again in Meats. Please don't talk to me. Please don't talk to me. Please don't talk to me.

2. I bought the Fleet Foxes album off of iTunes on a friend's recommendation. I listened to it while driving to and from EMT class in Flint. I love it. Fleet Foxes...they're like a slightly more sinister Beach Boys, like if the Beach Boys were singing in an all white room or the middle of the desert. It reminds me of bedrooms with shag carpeting and lone trees in fields and cold stone statues and boys riding bicycles at night and bonfires and stained-glass windows and rock quarries and pick-up trucks and wind on my face and everything else good in the world.

3. I had to drive to Genesys Health Park this week to pick up my ID badge. I'd never been there before. It was pretty cool, more like a giant mall than a hospital. In fact, it was a lot like a mall, because every mall I've ever been to has been filled with people who look half dead.

25 of the Randomest Things About Me EVER!

1. I love slasher movies. I also love zombies. A small part of me honestly believes that someday I'll be tested. Like maybe I'll be changing a light bulb in a leaky basement, in my bare feet and a slip, and someone will step from the shadows wearing masonry boots and a gas mask and carrying a long, rusty scythe. Could happen. Or, if the end of the world IS ever going to happen (like maybe in about 4 years, that's what I'm thinking) I think it honestly might be death by zombie for most of you. Not me, of course, because I'm ready.

2. Speaking of the end of the world, when I was in 10th grade (around the time ‘Armageddon’ and ‘Deep Impact’ were released), I was pretty much convinced to the point of not being able to sleep at night that there was a huge asteroid headed Earth's way. I kind of still think there's an asteroid coming, and I'm pretty sure its got zombies on it.

3. When I can't sleep at night, instead of counting sheep (which I think is a ridiculous thing to do, since I only count when I have to…NEVER for fun), I try to remember the order in which people won Head of Household on the latest season of Big Brother. That's fine. Go ahead and judge me.

4. I've begun to take baths instead of showers lately. There's something about sitting in a puddle of my own filth that's so RELAXING! No, but for real: sometimes I'll put my head under water and I'll close my eyes and I'll start to think really calming thoughts....like about a half-fawn, half-man frolicking in a field of daisies...but then I'll think, "What if there's a man standing over me with a knife right now (or a scythe) and I wouldn't know it because I've stupidly got my head under water?" And then I think, "Man, toffee is delicious."

5. It bothers me that in my last "random thing" I had to put my thoughts in quotes. I realize that quotes mean SPOKEN words, but Facebook doesn't have italics. Actually, Facebook DOES have italics, but it's this whole complicated process where I have to put things in brackets and who the fuck has time for that? Ok: I'm picky about things like grammar and formatting. I always, always proofread my emails and look up correct spellings.

6. I think Gizmo from 'Gremlins' is the most wonderful and adorable little creature, and it genuinely bothers me when people call Gizmo a gremlin. Gizmo is a MOGWAI. He only turns into a gremlin if you get him wet, feed him after midnight, or expose him to bright lights! It's not rocket-science.

7. If I could, I would build a giant Cadbury Cream Egg around myself and eat my way out.

8. You know how sometimes when you're lying on your bed about to eat a heaping bowl of Apple Jacks and watch the latest episode of Real World/Road Rules Challenge, you'll take the first bite and realize that whoever washed this spoon didn't wash the soap all way off? I really hate that. And now, I have soap paranoia. I'll be drinking hot chocolate out of my favorite mug and I'll think, "Was that white chocolate cocoa with SOAP undertones I just tasted?" And then I'll take another sip and I'll be like, "Naw!" But then I'll think, "Did I taste soap?" And then I'll think, "No, I didn't." And then I'll think, "Did I?" It's like when people get one of their legs cut off, but they still feel like they've got two legs. Yep, that's exactly what it's like.

9. I lived in Chicago for five years, and sometimes I feel like half of me is still there. Like my torso, and one of my arms and legs and half my head. No, but seriously: my years in Chicago were fan-freaking-tastic, mostly because that's where I got to witness Kate Bauer asking our hapless waitress at Clark's (while pointing to an old, clunky ATM machine), "Hey, does that bad boy work?" I plan to be back there (in Chicago, and also at Clark's--they've got delicious cheese fries and Kansas City Steak soup!) soon.

10. I love going to movies by myself. I mean, I love going with people too. No! No! Don't touch me. Ok, I'm calm now. There's just something about being in a big (and preferably empty) theater on, like, a Wednesday afternoon (I'm also a fan of not having a job) and watching some movie that changes your life, while eating the biggest tub of popcorn they sell, doused with the most imitation butter imaginable. I've seen countless movies alone, but only once have I gotten the theater completely to myself--when I was 18, at the Kalamazoo 10, for the movie "Duets" starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Scott Speedman.

11. I've often thought that I shouldn't allow myself to listen to music while driving long distances, only because I have a tendency to relive my entire life in my head and, like, plan what people should say at my funeral.

12. I'm not afraid to cry in public. I've done it many times. That's something you find yourself doing more often when you live in a city, because it's harder to find places without people...and I'm totally the kind of person who bursts into tears without much warning. There was a period in my life when I would try to plan for tears: like, 1 o'clock: Fundamental Math Class, 2 o'clock: Lunch at Gourmand, 3:15 o' clock: Cry my eyes out while beating my fists against a feather pillow. But sticking to a schedule always SOUNDS easier than it actually is.

13. I take a kickboxing class. And even though I know I'm not supposed to, I secretly really want to beat someone to a pulp. Like a stranger, probably. Like...I don't know...maybe this older woman I saw at Kroger the other day buying an ice cream cake. I don’t know…I probably won't.

14. Just in case you really don't know me that well, you can't take a lot of what I say seriously. Or I guess you CAN if you want to, but you probably shouldn't, because I'm a jokester. Once, I had my mom call my sister Gina and ask her to get her coat out of the closet, and then I hid in the closet and waited for Gina to come for the coat so I could jump out and scare her. It took her about 45 minutes to finally show up, but the look of pure shock and horror on her face made the wait totally worth it. If you ever live with me, be warned: I may do something like this to you.

15. When I was living in university housing at Columbia College, my roommates and I had a two year-long game going in which we hid a disembodied mannequin hand around our apartment. We'd find it in the freezer, the shower, shoved between the mattress and box-spring of one of our beds, or hanging precariously from a light-bulb cord.

16. I love riding my bicycle. Once, when I was living in Chicago, I rode around downtown late at night and it was totally deserted. It felt a lot like the opening scene of '28 Days Later.' In fact, that's how I caught this weird disease where my flesh started falling off my body and I turned into a rabid cannibal. That's also how I learned that Aspirin truly is a wonder drug.

17. Once, for about a month, I was the proud owner of a duckling. There is nothing more satisfying than falling asleep with a fuzzy little duckling nuzzled against your cheek. Also: duck meat is delicious.

18. Sometimes I feel like one of those people on a TV show that have an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Except instead of an angel and a devil, I have a girl who really wants to travel the whole world and sleep on beaches in Greece and touch baby chimps in Central Africa on one shoulder and a girl who wants to stay close to home and surround herself with family on the other shoulder. And...both girls are me. I know, man. It's deep. Also: one girl has long hair and the other girl has a jaunty bob.

19. I think a great idea is a "Decades" theme park, where instead of, like, getting to experience the magic that is Donald Duck's tug-boat, you would get to go and walk around a city block that is made to feel like you've stepped inside the 50s or 60s! It would be authentic and mind-blowing. And honestly, I'm pretty sure this is as close to time travel as we're ever going to get.

20. I have an arch enemy, and its name is: centipede bug. They follow me wherever I go. If someone told me I would never again fling back the shower curtain and be greeted by a 30-legged brown-bodied insect that crawled up through my tub drain in the night or that I would never again turn on a light only to have my heart jump into my throat at the sight of a centipede bug crawling up my wall or across the floor of my room, I would be a happy woman.

21. It doesn't gross me out that much to find a hair in my food. But, I debated whether or not to leave this random fact on the list because I think that other people will read it and think I'm disgusting. Look, it's not like I LIKE finding hair in my food, but if I find a single hair in my food (as long as it's not a really gross looking hair...I think you all probably know what I mean by that), I'll probably just pick it out and maybe get rid of the bite of food that was right close to the hair and then go about my business.

22. Gina-bo-beana, my wonderful sister, is just about the best girl on Earth. I like to tell her that she is a "frail little woman," because it makes her laugh and because she IS pretty tiny. I can pick her up. I think she would make a swell-looking garden gnome. But I would also be sad if she got turned to stone and stowed away in someone's garden because then I wouldn't be able to talk to her anymore. I would be able to look at her and douse her with water whenever I wanted without her being able to yell at me for it...and sure, that's fun for a month or two...but then I would really start to miss my sissa. Sissa is a fun word to say. So is sausage...if you pronounce it: "Sow-sage." It's not fun to say if you say it the regular way. But anway: I love you, Gina. Thanks for being the best sister on Earth. You inspire me and everyone around you more than you know.

23. I'm pretty sure if I looked long and hard, I could find you some parents that named their baby Frosting. And frosting is delicious, so I'm glad somebody decided to do what I'm sure many, many people have considered over the years. I've been thinking lately that when I get a puppy, I'm going to name it Huck. Or: Funyun. You know, like the totally delicious onion-flavored corn snack?

24. I've never been ice-fishing, but I think there is something poetic about it. Only if you do it at night, though--a cloudless night with lots of stars--and only if you listen to old-fashioned music on a portable radio, music like "I'll Be Seeing You" as sung by Billie Holiday. And, only if you light your fishing hut by an old-fashioned oil lantern. And only if you and your fishing buddy are the only ones out on the ice, and only if the only sounds you hear are your own voices and the crackling of the radio and the squeaking of your boots against the ice and the snapping of your fishing lines when you get a bite. Or, I don't know...you could just play Wii Ice Fishing.

25. I think I'm a little bit psychic. Or maybe I just wish I was. One time, in a poetry class at Western, this girl was reading a poem about a dead dog and I was thinking to myself, "She's gonna cry," and then she DID! I mean, it IS really sad when a dog dies. I get that. But when Funyun dies, I think I'm just going to throw a party in his honor. Also: I totally believe in that thing where if you think about something a lot, it will come to you. Because once, I thought about how much I wanted a cheese quesadilla from Gourmand, and then later I went and bought one.

To anyone who read this entire thing: Wow, thanks! You must really like me. Or maybe now that you've read this, you don't like me and are actually considering placing a concerned call to my parents. Either way, thanks a million. I've enjoyed writing this.