Monday, April 28, 2008
Anyone what to know what is worse than airplane sleep? Airport sleep! Worse by far. It made going to the dentist even sound less horrific... and for me, that says a lot! But dentists are for another blog.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Here are the rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book (at least 123 pages)
2. Turn to page 123.
3. Find the 5th sentence
4. Post the 5th sentence on your blog
5. Tag 5 people
The book is Montana 1948 by Larry Watson:
A murderer may have been locked up a floor below and the molecules of his victim's dying breath still floating in the air, yet these were not strong enough to stand up to my boy's hunger for chocolate cake.
I tag Heidi, Bri, Hana, Jen, and Becca.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Jumbo shrimp with crab meat wrapped in bacon and fried… heaven in a word! On the side, supremely cheesy and garlicky “smashed” potatoes. However I must not forget the appetizer of fresh hush puppies. The south knows their cookin’ and for this I am forever grateful!
And another pleasant place to pee that I had the enjoyment of using? Chicago Airport Women’s Restroom. Next time you're in this airport, even if you don't have to pee, do it anyway. They have bar none the cleanest public restrooms ever. They look clean, smell clean, feel clean and every time I walked into one there has always been a friendly employee cleaning and ensuring sanitation. As if this wasn’t great enough on its own, they have spacious stalls with self-changing toilet seat covers!
Just wave your hand in front of the sensor and it automatically slides a new cover onto the seat! Brilliance! Finally years of technology pays off! No need to worry that the little useless tissue cover fell off as your buttocks touches the cold nasty seat or do thigh busting squats! To top it all off, the “courtesy pause” for the automatic toilet actually gives you enough time to get off of the seat before it flushes! It couldn’t get much better my friends.
Monday, April 21, 2008
It smelled so good with concentrated flower smell that it was intoxicating. I can’t remember the last time I had such a great environment in which to take care of business.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Blurring the boundary where one stops and another begins
Tight familiarity known only to a few
Melded in unity
A definition of love? Or marriage? Oh no my friends. Rather a description of the uncomfortably close relationship of my butt with the bike seat at the gym last night. Over an hour on the bike will do that I guess… make note to self.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
I understand that you are trying to make your blog more interesting and share your personality or favorite tunes, but have you ever thought that random music blaring out of nowhere is similar to someone standing over my desk at the office and yelling with a bullhorn: “ATTENTION: RACHEL IS NOT WORKING. SHE IS CHOOSING TO BLOGSURF INSTEAD. DISREGARD HER COMPLAINS IN THIS MORNING’S MEETING WHEN SHE SAID SHE HAD TOO MUCH WORK TO DO… REALLY IT’S ALL JUST INTERNET TIME.”
So thanks… thanks a whole lot.
Monday, April 7, 2008
So if you or someone you know could be a good home for this mirror- come get it and it is yours! Please, someone comment and tell me you want it. If not, it may become shattered from frustration, and I don't need the 7 years bad luck or I may have to break down and become aquainted with Craigslist or KSL.com. However for you, for a limited time only, it's free. But wait, if you email me now, you can come get it for free too!
UPDATE: It is no longer homeless! A sucker from my work is picking it up this weekend! WAHOO!
This being said, last week I missed a turn off of Bangerter Highway and ended up randomly taking a right on 5400 South-ish (see I never know quite where I am). This detour added to a not so pleasant morning. So I pulled over at a Chevron to get some gas and fuel (Dr. Pepper) in order to carry on my travels. Little did I know that I would be greeted by David Bowie behind the counter and a good, “Now, how are you doin’ today?”
As he asked me this, I noticed that he was semi-dancing to the fab 80’s music on his radio, but only dancing from the chest up- kind of rocking side to side and cocking his head in sync. Who knew David Bowie would be working at a gas station in Taylorsville? He kept up the suave dance and the way he spoke. As he asked for me to put in my PIN number it almost made me feel like I was being solicited or something similarly unholy. It was a very creepy yet exhilarating experience to have David Bowie helping me with my chocolate donut. Hmm. If I knew Mr. Bowie would be there, I would probably venture to the west side more often. So… Mr. Bowie... Let’s dance!