Roads with two or three names

Little did I know that coming home for a week would be so noisy.
Dad's redoing the floor, so it's like a war in the kitchen. Gunshots (nail guns), tanks (vacuum cleaners), yelling over the noise (yelling over the noise), and much destruction (ripped up floors) have taken over the better part of the house.

This is war:
*imagine Colbie Caillat playing in the background*
















This is the aftermath:















And this is my John Kerry face in the middle of it all:















I'm a stickler for funny faces, even if some people aren't!

If you're wondering about the Colbie Caillat mentioning, my dad composed a couple playlists because he likes to listen to music whilst he works. So on top of the machine guns and grenades, there's easy-listening music blaring in the background. The contrast is amusing, but the way the stereo plays the same songs OVER AND OVER again is not.

And I think that I should bring to your attention that it's only Monday, which means that this war noise could go on for another week. It might still be going on when I leave the front. I got deployed here to take the GMAT.

That's a true story. I'm taking the GMAT in about 3 hours.
Am I nervous?
Not about the test, but more about my brain actually getting out of bed and working. The 10 hours of sleep is unusual for the little guy.
("Little" guy? BAH!)
(Wow. That was extremely arrogant.)

I had a dream last night that the test wasn't so bad, but I forgot to do the writing part and forgot to look at my score at the end and then Beth was there, laughing at my forgetfulness. Not cool, man- NOT COOL.

Here's another true story:
My mum, grandma and I went shopping this morning, and I sat in the back of the car listening to this tale.
Earlier that morning, Granny had been on the phone with a representative from the Bank of America about getting her bank statements as hard copies instead of online e-statements. So she's going on and on to the poor guy about how she was supposed to get one in May and how it still hasn't been fixed because she's still receiving e-statements.

And from working in customer service, I feel for the guy. I really do. It most likely wasn't his fault, yet he's the one getting yelled at. [Old] people seem to have no discretion when it comes to the phone- or even in person. If you're a breathing, warm body, it's definitely all your fault.

It's funny because when she called the bank they put her through this automated system. So the phone was like, "Press 7 for ...; Press 8 for ...." And she was like, "I want to speak to a LIVE person!" And so they transferred her to a live person. Haha. Robots understand. ;)

Anywho- so she was complaining to the guy about how the numbers on the screen are too small and so she can't read it and needs a hard copy.
So me and my smart-mouth self comments, "Can't you print it out?"
And she's like, "Yeah, I can print it out."

Then there's your hard copy with which you can peruse with a magnifying glass.
SO WHAT IS THE PROBLEM!?!?!?? That it doesn't come in the MAIL?

I don't see why [old] people feel the need to call institutions and just gripe about what they could very well fix themselves. I never thought printing a piece of paper would be a such a creative solution, but I guess it's just a difference betwixt our generations.
Or personalities.
Either/or.

Some days you're the dog and some days you're the hydrant,
TWS

Condiment Querying

I wore khaki shorts today.
I haven't rocked this style in a while.
What's awesome is that I bought these in 9th grade.
That was 6 years ago.
That was back when I dated stupid boys.
Now I date a smart boy.

And the shorts still fit.

I'll be a senior in TWO days (Dad, that one's for you). Taking a summer semester makes me want to only take summer semesters.
It'd be fun, but ineffective.
Like Ball-in-a-Cup.

So here's my new plan for life in 11 easy steps.
I literally one-upped the 10-step program:

1. Be awesome: work & take 15 hours in the fall
2. Be awesome: work & take 12 hours in the spring
3. Graduate with BBA; Major in accounting and a minor in information systems with SAP certificate. That's a mouthful.
4. Get a graduate assistantship somehow?
5. Be awesome: take 9 hours in summer and work as GA
6. Be awesome: take 12 hours in the fall and work as GA
7. Get engaged???
8. Be awesome: take 9 hours in spring and work as GA
9. Graduate with Macc.
10. Finish taking CPA exam in June 2013; become Allie J CPA :D
11. Get married???; become Allie _ CPA :D

It's going to be awesome!
Although I don't know about all that wedding planning amid graduate school.
I don't want anything big; I just want to be with someone for the rest of my life.
That's all. :)

Today's topic: Honey Mustard Stinginess

Have you ever noticed how the restaurants you frequent have become increasingly stingy over their honey mustard supply? Back in my school lunch days, you could pick up a few with your meal- no problem. Then they started keeping it behind the counter so that you had to ask for it, but you could still ask for some free of charge- no mean looks, no problem.

But now recently, they CHARGE you for it. 25 cents a packet. And I'd be fine paying the little extra to satiate my addiction for it, but their whole attitude towards it is just awful. Somehow, they're always like- surprised- that you want sauce with your meal. And when you order, it's not like they ask you if you'd like sauce with that (which would be effective up-sizing, btw) so that they can just add the charge onto the bill. Nonono- they wait until you've paid with a card and then when you ask, assuming it's free, they get all mad that they have to ring up another stinking order for 50 cents of sauce.
And then the way they inform you that they charge for this now is just hilarious.

Example scenario:
Worker: "Order 292"
Me: "Could I get some honey mustard?"
Worker: "You know that'll be an extra 25 cents?"

It's like it's an informative question. How do you even answer that?
"Yes, I know? Can you reach down there and get some so I can hand you the spare change I found in your parking lot in exchange for such saucy goodness?"
Or, conversely:
"Oh, really? Well, that extra 25 expense totally changes my opinion about this restuarant. I shall have to masticate my chicken without such luxuries!"

But WHY IS IT SO MUCH MORE VALUABLE than the other condiments?!?!? Is there drought and famine in the land where honey mustard trees grow? Why cannot there not be huge vats with pumps of HM like there are for mayonnaise and ketchup? Why can't it be FREE again?

Like- why all of the sudden did they start charging for this? Did some honey mustard supply and demand curves shift?

Here's some business advice that I thought they already knew but apparently they don't: Include the price of the sauce into the price of the chicken sandwich so that it appears free and you don't seem like such a prick by charging separately.

Sometimes they don't even ring it up as a separate purchase and just kind of throw your change in a little cup that could be easily compromised. (Lack of internal controls!!!) How is anyone even keeping track of the additional honey mustard revenue?

And have you noticed that when you get "fed up" and go to the grocery store to buy your own freaking bottle of the stuff that it's never as good? It's too mustardy. I also think there is a little novelty that comes with the individual packet that the bottle just can't replace.

My favorite is when I ask for honey mustard at a restaurant, and the worker goes and looks in the back and then comes back to me and says something like, "We don't have any honey mustard, but we have BBQ sauce."

As if honey mustard and BBQ sauce taste even remotely the same.
There are absolutely NO substitutes for honey mustard. Not even honey mixed with mustard will suffice.
They just don't understand.

Also, shoestring fries > waffle fries > crinkle fries.
Read: Everywhere else > Zaxby's.
TRUE STORY.
Comment if you disagree.

Bet you won't,
TWS

Just a number and a name

I feel like I'm at work too much, but I only work like 16 hours a week. I guess it will feel way worse when I have real 40+ hour work week. It's going to be like I'm living there- especially if I'm working from home.

*Two drums and a cymbal fall off a cliff*

That was some REALLY dry humor right there.

I even stayed after 5 the other day to finish up some filing because that's just how much of a dedicated student worker I am. Also, I'm saving up for a cruise, and the extra little $3 I earned then will be going towards it. That and the penny I found heads up outside of COBA this morning. Baby steps.

My wrist smells really, REALLY amazing right now.

Also, I almost got ran over by a Segway yesterday. It creeped up behind me like it was a golf cart, but it really wasn't. I never thought running errands on Sweetheart Circle would be so dangersome.

And yes, that is a word.

The inevitable has happened. I've become a "texter". This month, I actually used 240 out of my allotted 250, and the website said I was "cutting it close". Not really, but I did feel like I was being yelled at about reaching my limit.

I really miss sewing. And designing. I think it's because I started writing in a book that has lines, which restricts my sketching power. And then I just kind of stopped writing in the book altogether. I should remind myself to stop buying such books and instead buy COMPLETELY BLANK books.

But anyway- I get to go home in a week and finish that periwinkle dress! In fact, I have a free night today, so I can work on it. I got so super inspired at work that I almost pooped in my pants.

Just kidding.
(I wasn't wearing pants.)
OH SNAP.

So Mike and I have been doing this phrase recently.

"How can you do a phrase? That's like in French when you learn that the verb 'faire' can mean to do, to make, or to participate in, so when you make pancakes, you are also participating in pankcakes!"

The phrase is "Bet you won't!"
And it goes like this:
One person says something normal like, "I'm going to the bathroom."
And then the other one sardonically says, "Bet you won't!"
And then the former retorts, "WHO WON'T DO IT?"
And then the latter replies, "YOU WON'T DO IT!"
And then by law of nature and man, you must do it. It's like a mandatory dare, and it makes life much more interesting.
















Unrelated story:
I was biking home from work yesterday and near my apartment are some houses. As I passed by, I caught a good whiff of someone's laundry, so I looked over, and the house had this huge poster of Justin Bieber in their window. Since I SO wasn't expecting that, I burst out laughing, and he just stared right back at me. I love when people I don't even know have the same humor as me. Like when someone put googly eyes on the water fountain in COBA last spring. I laughed for like a week over that.

My roommate is cooking something that smells like dead feet.
Like that's anything new.

I always find it stunning whenever I see normal people living in apartments. Not that I'm not normal (even though I'm not), but in a college town, you just kind of forget that regular non-student people live here, too. Some people were doing Tai-Chi in my back yard on Tuesday. And then I came by riding on my bike and ruined their aura. True story.

Because leavings things is just too hard for me,
TWS

Listen to a really good song, right here right now.

In 5 Years Time

This weekend was fantastic.

Have you ever thought about the word "fantastic"?
It's like 'fan' + 'tastic'.
And 'tastic' means of super-great-magnitude, as in the words "frat-tastic" or "ectastic" even though that's not really a word. And then the word 'fan' means a person with great admiration, so the word "fantastic" really describes something that is super-liked by all people.

Or, if you climb out of my imaginative dictionary into the boring world, "fantastic" comes from the word 'fantasy' to describe something remote from reality. In my opinion, the word should then be "fantast-ish", which is the German way to say that.

But aside from my brief etymology lesson, this weekend was great. To illustrate such greatness, I have included a smorgasboard of pictures. Think of it like a graphic novel.

Or, rather, don't.

This post shall be woven with words and laced with lyrics from Noah and the Whale songs, so the things that read like lyrics aren't mine; I'm only including them because they're so happy and super-approrpiate for this past weekend. The purpose of this paragraph is so that the copyright monster won't eat me. You know how those things can get.

So how about I went to a ZOO on Saturday?
I just realized how much the word zoo looks like the number 200. What is with me and words today?
Anyway- I hadn't been up close and personal with such animals since I was 4, back when I used to take field trips.

"A zoo? That's so childish!" you exclaim.

Oh yeah? Then why did they have a college student discount?
Besides, we had to make Mike feel young again since he was turning the big 23.

So here are a few pictures of the things mine eyes have seen. These aren't all the pictures I took (excluded are naked mole rats, warthogs, etc), but included are a worthy selected few. Interesting factoid: Zoo Atlanta is one of only 3 zoos in America that have actual pandas from China. Apparently we rent them for like $1,000,000 a year, as if we're not indebted to China enough already.

But here's a really cool elephant!

I cropped out the zooworker in the background because some people don't look good with tucked-in shirts. And she was one of them.



















"And there will be love in the bodies of the elephants too;
I'll put my hands over your eyes, but you'll peek through"

And this was the closest I got to a giraffe.














We have a mysterious likeness.

Here's a picture I got of a bear.
Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

Turns out their tongues are really that long.















So this really isn't an exaggeration:


















And it's always really freaked me out much gorillas look like people. Or how [certain] people look like gorillas. Like in middle school. Remember that? Yeah! Anyway, here's a picture of that. I doubt it will freak you out as much as it did me, but they really look like Neanderthals to me!















And then the epic lion! Doesn't he look so cuddly? Like you could just curl up with him and read a book?















Here's a really gold monkey:















If animals were pieces of Quidditch equipment, he'd be the snitch. HP FTW!

And here is the red panda, but I wouldn't really consider it a bear. It looks kind of like a fox. And I like foxes.
In fact, I was once called a "fox". My mum was too, back in the day.
Boys wrote these kinds of things in her yearbook.
True story.















Here's another true story: on Sunday, since Biff is no longer pregnant, we dared her to eat a raw onion just like an apple, just like Sam the onion man did in the book Holes.

So she did.

It was entertaining, but she was only able to eat half of it because we didn't want her to throw up.
I mean, this isn't Jackass 4.
















And she smelled like an ogre afterwards.

There were other things like 3 completely homework-free days, homemade cheesecake and brownies, swimming, family, long walks, and sunsets that made this weekend SO awesome. It all went by way too fast.

And M&I had a fantastic time, despite the overabundance of chin and neck fat in this picture.















In 5 years time, M&I might just be inseparably combined.
Like two atoms in a molecule.

Fair warning.

And there'll be love love love wherever you go there'll be love,
TWS