Sow

Halloween reminds me of a famous quote said by myself, circa 2004:
"Don't try to be somebody else. Just be them."

I'm either going to be Yukari Takeba from Persona 3 or John Nolan from TBS for Halloween. I would bet 5 cents that none of you know who those figures are, so here are some pictures:

Yukari Takeba

John Nolan

I'll probably be John since I already have the plaid shirt thing going on.

Last night, I shaved my legs with men's shaving cream and now my legs feel all minty.
Don't ask me why I did it; it just happened.
To make it even weirder, it wasn't even Mike's shaving cream.
If you must know the full story, we will have to close the door for a close-the-door story.

Oh, and for all the HATERS out there who were all like, "I dunno 'bout that" about my artwork (this means you, Biff), some carpenters were in my office rearranging some shelves, and they commented on how awesome it was.
First, the guy came over and said he couldn't help but notice my art on the wall and asked if I had a kid that did it. I was like no, it's art by me because I like color.
Then, he said that he wasn't degrading me like that, but it just looked so thoughtful and yet simple at the same time.
FINALLY. Someone besides me gets my art.
"Yeah," he said, "I mean that one makes me want to ride a big one."
They left saying how well-done and nice it all looked.

Boom shackalacka.
Acceptance.

So now that summer is gone...
Well, it's mostly gone. The weather's still here, but the pool times (boat times, if you're Old Greg), sundresses, long days and ice bucket challenges are all gone.

Speaking of ice bucket challenges, no one ever challenged me.
*shrugs*

I like when I have dreams where I'm researching stuff because whatever I find is going to be something I already know.
Try Googling something in your dreams. There will only be like two search results, and one won't even be relevant.

I also like space heaters. They remind me of staying home and actually having a Christmas break.
The sun is a giant space heater.
Think about it.
It heats space.

I've been doing that thing where I plan fervently for retirement again.
Looks like best case scenario, 13 years. Worst case scenario, 16 years.
It's kind of depressing, considering all the things that I want to do in "retirement", I need a young body to do.
Someone please tell me 37 is not too old to go surfing in Hawaii and vacation in St. Croix for a week.
Even if that is true, I'll still need to be in peak physical condition when I do these things.

"Why don't you just work until you're 40 and do those things while you're younger?"

It may have to come to that. I just really hate coming back from vacations. I want life to be an eternal vacation instead of having to work 3 months straight just to have a four day weekend because, yeah, that's how accruing vacation time feels.
Especially when you're an "experienced non-manager".

Leo: Yeah, you just gotta stay positive, man. Like I don't wanna learn French, so every day, I think positive thoughts about not learning French. And look at me; I don't know a word of French!

Golden delicious is better than red delicious.

The fruit of the spirit's not a banana,
TWS

Of Chorse

Hay.

I have a comic for you.

I know there are plenty of neigh-sayers who would complain about my horse-drawing abilities and dryness of humor.

My mane goal was to harness the idea of illustrating a trite metaphor. Don't be surprised if I subsequently draw the pot calling the kettle black. I've only herd a number of these certain metaphors in my time, but when I hear people say them with unbridled enthusiasm, I feel reminded that, yes, people do still reuse and rehash the same aphorisms like they're 19th century playwrights.

At the very least, I figure it gives me a stable supply of comic-drawing material.

I pun for fun,
TWS

99 lbs

I biked to church today.

4.76 miles!
It only took me like half an hour, and I didn't even die.

"Allie, that means you were going less than 10 mph. That's terrible."

Whatever, man. I don't have to exercise later.

And it's such a pretty day,
TWS

Diffidence

Do you want to know something weird and unnatural?
Pants that zip in the back.

Do you want to know something else that happened to me that was very weird and unnatural?

"Yes."

The Story of the Bananas That Would Never Get Ripe

First, you must know that I eat a banana every work day. I prefer this breakfast because it's tasty while not being messy or requiring a microwave. For those of you who would like to yell at me about how I should be eating home grown eggs, wild berries, and wheat chaff for breakfast, save it. I do that on the weekend when I can make a mess and don't have to balance a boiling hot bowl while climbing down a rickety spiral staircase in heels.

(Though, the microwave/staircase situation should improve with the new workplace.)

Secondly, you must know that Mike and I go grocery shopping on the weekend whenever Mike has resolved with himself that it is indeed time to grocery shopping. I like to go soon after I wake up on Saturday, but this is abominable to Mike, so we wait until I've nagged him enough and then we go. Why don't I just go by myself? Because grocery shopping is a feat too terrible to take on by oneself. Plus, Mike is like uncannily good at spotting bargains.

One time, I had company coming in on Saturday, so in order to have food and not be worst hostess in the world, we had to go grocery shopping on Friday night.
It was a hot date.
No, really, it was. Because living in Georgia is hot always!

Then that weekend, we were able to enjoy our days off and not have to make any special trips to go pick up food. We decided that, perhaps, it is better to get grocery shopping out of the way on Fridays so that we can just chill on Saturdays. (btw, if you go on Sunday, you really don't get a day off because then it's church-grocery shopping-cooking-choir-church-sleep)

Now, see, the thing about bananas is that I like them barely ripe. A clean yellow color is best. Yellow with a little green is good. Yellow with a few freckles is tolerable. But anything else = horrible.
When bananas are past their prime, not only is the banana-taste amplified to a disgusting level, but the texture of it is eerily similar to fecal matter.

Some ol' fokes may like dem like dis.
But not I.

When we went shopping on Saturday, I would be at the mercy of whatever was already picked over in the banana selection department. Sometimes, I would be stuck getting yellow ones which were great on Monday and Tuesday. By Wednesday, things were getting iffy, and my Thursday and Friday bananas would've been better in a smoothie. Or pudding. Or the trash can.

Last Friday, we went to the grocery store, and I faced an even greater dilemma. Shopping one day earlier means I have to buy my bananas that much greener so that I won't have to torture myself with rotten food at the end of the week.

Luckily, there were some very green ones on the display. I put these in the cart thinking that surely they would be green/yellow by Monday and a good yellow by Thursday.

Side note: the worst is when they start turning brown while they're still green. You can't just skip phases in your life, banana. You have to suffer through it all just like everyone else does.

Sunday night came, and I was packing my lunch. The banana was still very green. Maybe it will be more yellow tomorrow, I thought optimistically as I stuck it in my bag.

Monday morning, I did not get to eat my banana. It was so hard, I couldn't even bend it. No, that's not what she said. The skin was unbreakable. I couldn't even penetrate it. No, that's not what she said.

Tuesday, same banana, same story. These were the bananas that never got ripe. Mike was like, "Maybe you bought plantains by mistake", but on one of the bananas, there was an innocent little Dole sticker that said "Banana". I figured bananas wouldn't just blatantly lie about their identity like that.

Wednesday, I finally decided to find out what was really in this thing. I tore it open with my hands like Tarzan because it didn't open like a normal banana. It was stiff, and the skin still clung to the fruit. I broke the fruit apart, and it snapped in half like Styrofoam. Then I put it in my mouth. Yep. Super ripe and so chalky tasting that I spit it back out.

I felt horribly betrayed. It was like the time I found out that Harriet Tubman's Underground Railroad was not only not underground, but it also wasn't a railroad. I think I was less upset about Santa not being real than I was about the Underground Railroad not being, in fact, a railroad under the ground.

So anyway, it was a bunch of bananas gone to waste. I don't even think that if I put them in my compost that they would decompose. They were like freeze-dried on the inside. Slowdance on the inside. Taking Back Sunday. What?

I kind of want to return them to the store, but Mike is all like, "The bananas were cheap. No reason to return them."
It's not really about the money with me, though. It's about principle. And the fact that later in life, I could be like, "Hey- remember that time I returned the bananas that would never get ripe?"

Never exposed to Ethylene,
TWS

Dem Ol' Fokes

You can tell the economy is growing, not by how misleading and crappy your stock portfolio is doing, but by how businesses are willing to pay for manual advertisements.

Two examples:
1. At the end of our street, there are some balloons with signs that advertise the new construction going on in our neighborhood. On Sunday, there was a guy that stood out there all afternoon twirling a sign so fast that you couldn't even read it.
He brought 3 jugs of water to sustain him through his shift, I guess.
Mike was wondering where he would go to the bathroom. He was pretty much standing in a forest.
So...probably the forest.
Gross.

2. Near Kroger, there is a Great Clips that is fairly new. They had a few signs posted advertising a $7 haircut sale. Standing RIGHT beside one of the signs was a guy holding the very same sign.

Do you really need people to hold signs? Unless you're picketing, I think not.
Even if you are picketing, I think not.

But if those are wages and payroll taxes that you want to pay, go right ahead.

I keep having dreams about thrift stores. In one dream, they were having a bag sale, so Mike went and bought me a bunch of cute stuff for like $2. In another dream, I was picking out a lot of neat tops from That 70s Show at the thrift store.

I wonder if garbage chic is ever going to be a thing.

"Allie, what's garbage chic?"

I'm not exactly sure. The internet says it's something like Ke$ha, but I drew this at lunch and it made me laugh:

I'm going to make Michael sit down to a painfully in depth discussion about the difference between accountable and non-accountable plans and the tax implications.
He just pulled into the garage.
I can't wait!!!

Purpley pink,
TWS

Mob Security

When it rains, it pours is the storm of the century.

Let me detail to you all the things that have gone wrong in the past 36 hours.

First, I must preface this with the fact that Mike is sick and has been for a whole week with like 14 different ailments. First it was food poisoning, then it was a sore throat, then we thought it was the flu but then it wasn't, and then his stomach hurt again, and then he lost his voice.
So recently, he's sounded like a squeaky man boy thing and coughs a lot.

Our air conditioning broke Thursday night. We turned down the air like we normally do at night, and it never came on. The outside unit was still churning with purpose, but the fan was not having it.

So we opened the windows, put a box fan up, and tried to not think about sleeping in sweat.
About half way through the night, it got to be a decent temperature.

Friday morning, Mike finds this cool HVAC fixing company. I call and make an appointment for them to come out at 5:30.

Around 4 it starts to rain.

At 5 twenty something they call and say it's too dangerous to work on the unit because of the rain and that they're going to reschedule until Monday because it's supposed to rain all weekend.

I'm pretty disappointed, and yet I think to myself this is an opportunity to be like a native American and save some electricity by having the air off all weekend. Plus, I love the sound of rain outside.
Blind optimism.

The evening was pretty uneventful with our windows open, save for the horrible smells coming through them. At one point, it smelled like someone took a dump in some gasoline and poured it all through our house, but that passed. Then someone burned something, so the wood smoke scent carried through our house.

We went to bed, but Mike was coughing a lot, so after 30 minutes, I went to sleep somewhere else. Then at about 3:30 am, the fire alarm went off.

In my experience, fire alarms are 100% inaccurate because every time I've heard a fire alarm, there has been no fire. This was also the case last night.

Mike fiddles with some circuit breakers and I try to read on the internet how to shut that thing up because it's so obviously wrong. I suppose it had only started yelping because it detected the smoke that wasn't our smoke that came through the windows because we had them open because the air conditioning people couldn't come because it was raining.

If you give a moose a muffin...

So that's currently what I'm dealing with now. And everyone asking the following question or variations of it:
When are you getting married!?!?!??!??
ISN'T HELPING.

So... stop it.
Please.
Please stop. Forever.
Thank you.

And now I'm going to drive a cool car do a cool beach and learn how to surf.

A dotted line you'll sign for me,
TWS

Beat Up Car; TBS