Text messages

This falls under the saved-for-posting category.

My friends, awesome as they are, sometimes send me pretty wonderful text messages detailing their own amusements (or, I'm just amused by their insanity). I'll recount a few of them for you below. (And you may well recognize yourself here. That's right -- I saved it. Though now that I'm saving them here, I can probably free up some much-needed cell phone memory and delete.)

Oh, and I left the punctuation/capitalization/etc. alone:

There is a ton of dirt on the Dooley statue and a sign that says "Wash me! --Wash U"

Coolest Halloween costume ever: Sylvia Plath. Wear a bathrobe and carry an Easy Bake Oven

Can you steal an amish child and keep it as a pet? Or is that only permissible with midgets?

OMG the m&ms I'm eating are so good I needed to tell someone!

I just saw an ice cream truck! I think it was playing, sewanee river. I don't know how to spell that. The truck itself was unadorned which was sad

I just saw a shirt that said 'i was raised on the street' and it had a picture of the sesame street characters.

There was a possum just sitting on the sidewalk as i just walked past your house. It sat there and swiveled its head and looked at me. Crazy!

Keep 'em coming!

More wheeled fun

We're back to two-wheeled bicycles for the moment because I saw a couple with baskets, and they were snazzy. One was like a grocer's basket at the front of the bike -- oversized, black mesh, nothing fancy. The other was a white wicker one with flowers that looked like it had been pulled off a kid's bike and made to fit an adult's. Both were way cool.

Then there was a police Segway (or some reasonable variation of a Segway) and that was purely amusing.

Unicycle

Walking out of work this afternoon, I was passed by someone on a bike, which is not an odd occurrence. Until I realized that the bike had only one wheel.

And to make matters even better than just the fact that there was a dude unicycling down the street (I say dude, though I'm not sure if it was a guy or a girl -- I only saw from behind, and the hair didn't help), there's this: said dude had a plastic grocery bag in his/her right hand. And that bag contained a frozen pizza.

He/she totally unicycled to the corner store to get dinner. Which rocks.

Reach for the stars!

As I was driving home this afternoon, the guy in the car next to me had his moon roof open. And his right arm was sticking out the top, like if he had been resting his left arm on the windowsill (is that the proper phrasing for the car window's edge?), but in the sky.

It looked pretty funny, the disembodied hand in the air. And I started laughing because I drive like that, too. And I'd never seen anyone else do it before. A little disconcerting, as a bystander.

Also, I won concert tickets from the radio for recognizing the theme to Mad Men, which is a super-awesome show. This is the second time that's happened in a year! Hooray free concert tickets.

Lastly, I've been at my job a year now. It doesn't feel like that long at all. And that's pretty cool. So happy work-iversary to me.

Chrome

My sister got a new messengers bag for her birthday, and its kind of amazing!

(note the seatbelt buckle!!)

Yay city

Between the Cleveland speller and the Cavs' victory (just two more!) I think my city will be a very happy place tomorrow.

OK, I'm perhaps the only one who cares about the speller. But let's not parse the reasons for the celebration!

The most wonderful time of the year

Those of you in Cleveland are likely sick of it before it starts, but... today is spelling bee day! And spelling bee day is a time for celebration (but not of the Rex Manning variety).

So, if you're looking for something to do tonight, I highly encourage the watching of said bee. It's monumentally entertaining, as last year's winner demonstrates.

And you can read more on Wednesday's preliminary developments here and see what's happening Thursday here, if I did this right. Yay spelling bees!

Edit: Cleveland speller in the finals! Cleveland speller in the finals!

Find me a find

Someone I interviewed last week called and asked if she could give my name to a yenta.

I laughed and said sure. After all, it can't hurt anything.

It takes how long?

I had an interview in Seven Hills today, and with my sense of direction -- which is very, very bad -- I figured it couldn't hurt to map where I was going before plugging the address into the GPS in the car.

So imagine my surprise when Google maps told me it would take more than 55 days to get there.

This is because the Seven Hills I wanted was not the one Google maps found.

The best part of the directions? When I was told to kayak across the Pacific Ocean. Three times. I'm curious as to how they determine how long it will take me to do that without knowing my arm strength. Or my ability to kayak a straight line.

The string of directions in Japanese was a close second in the amusement factor.

Then, I started looking for directions to other foreign lands. But Google cannot get me to Tegucigalpa, London, Paris or Madrid. Only Australian suburbs, apparently.

And sad news -- there's no public transportation option available for any of these trips.

No more pencils, no more books

I call a local school for a story I'm working on. The woman who I talk to says, "Are you an intern there, is that your senior project?"

I say no. I just sound young.

She says, "Well, one day you'll appreciate it."

I already think it's funny. This is at least the third time I've been mistaken for 18 or under at work. At least this time, it was just on the phone.

(The other two were at a high school journalism banquet the paper I worked for was hosting, when I was actually surrounded by teens. No, I wasn't an intern then, either. I guess they're just that much more stylish than I am.)

A different lazy Sunday

Between the truck (I've since seen at least two more) and the Bruster's rewards I get in my e-mail, ice cream's been on my mind (realistically, though, it's always back there somewhere). So I need to implore you, should you ever find yourself in Columbus, to check out Jeni's. It's interesting and creative and just downright tasty.

So: a waffle cone with lime cardamom, pistachio honey and dark chocolate ice creams. In a park. With awesome people. And a crazy, crazy wet dog.

Fantastic Sunday afternoon, if I do say so.

Amused

The woman at the Bruegger's stopped by our table to tell me I had "the best laugh."

I giggled.

Amalgamation

To make up for my failure to adequately aid your work-week procrastination, I give you three things this Friday afternoon:

Kilts. Four men wearing them, walking down the street (and might I add that at least one was young, and pretty attractive?). True, they were part of some Chicago police band (that's what the drum carried by one of them said -- I'm only assuming that it's this band). But that in no way lessens the fact that the members of said band (who were not marching at the time, mind you, but merely crossing at a crosswalk) were kilt-clad.

Pink scooter. This middle-aged woman was riding down the street (in the Warehouse District, mind you, which we'll get to next) on a Mary Kay-colored scooter. One of the sit-down kinds.

Cornhole. I don't know how I managed to not hear of this game during my first iteration as a Midwesterner, but it's apparently all the rage. And there was a dude standing outside a bar in the aforementioned Warehouse District (there are a lot of those around there), cell phone to his ear, just tossing beanbags into holes. It was all very zen.

I am so spoiled.

So, I recently quit my job. (Tuesday.) I am ecstatic about this (no, no sarcasm. I feel GREAT!)
Not only do I have the support of my friends and family, but I am being rewarded, as Andy is in the process of buying a hot tub! For our back yard!

Bring on the crazy naked nights, y'all!

Pushing Daisies is gone

But its influence lives on! (Thanks, Resa).

And the last few episodes will exist again. As long as Kristin Chenoweth is somewhere, I am happy.

Whenever I call or text Bek, Kristin Chenoweth says "Bosom, bosom, bosom. I just can't help myself; I'm a bosomaholic."

And that's just funny.

(There's a bosom story that makes it all make more sense, but suffice to say that bosom is an amusing word that isn't used with nearly enough frequency.)

Yeah!

I didn't realize how long it'd been since I heard Cake on the radio until "The Distance" came on this morning. Cake is happiness (in both its edible and musical forms).

Free chocolate

Need I say more?

Scrambled Eggs at Midnight

I just started reading this book, which has one of the best first lines in recent memory:

My mother is a wench. It says so right on her W-2.

It also has, at might be expected, renaissance festivals. (Huzzah!) And Asheville. And illegally obtained explosives. I can't tell you for sure to go out and read it because I don't know if it ends well, but I'm liking it so far.

Better than ordering pizza

Pardon the date on this - I have a small stockpile of things I've been meaning to post, but couldn't at the time for one reason or another.

This story, about a woman who ordered ...adult magazines for a neighbor she was fighting with, is among them. And amusingly creative. Not that I'd ever do a thing like that.

Timing is everything

Car I parked next to this morning had this bumper sticker:

We're working ...to be the best. Chrysler.