The Joys of Sleeping Without Pants

And other simple pleasures that hurt only those who walk in on you when you have a wedgie in your sleep.

Not sure that there's anything else that falls under that category, but you get the point. Basically, anyone who has a major issue with what you're doing that you find enticing. Perhaps they've walked in on you while you're picking your nose. Some people like this. Maybe they've encountered you while you're in the middle of releasing large amounts of gas orally. Is this a relaxation technique? I personally cannot burp as a normal person would (at least, I'm not aware of my ability to do so) but I would imagine that it is highly relaxing and brings about a sense of peace with the world. Or maybe I'm wrong and it's just something to do so you can eat more, spend more money, etc.

But really, let's get to the real point at hand: sleeping without pants on. It's really only an issue if you have a roommate who directly shares your room (of which I have none anymore) or if you live with people who do not like to knock on the door. Again, I have none. Thus, pants free sleep. Has there ever been an activity so....liberating? I didn't think so either. Especially when it's a warm summer night in the middle of the spring. (Are we still in the middle of the spring? I think by this point we can probably classify it as the latter half of spring, by far.)

Tomorrow's activities: buy Zach's birthday present, try a new hairstyle, work. And sleep. But who doesn't love sleep? Especially liberating sleep.

Me gusta.

TODOS LAS GUSTAS!

Rant on Facebook

I am, put simply, the best Facebook stalker you will ever come across. If you are reading this now, chances are good that I already know your name, where you live, your mother's maiden name, your favorite color, your 2nd favorite childhood pet's name, your father's neighbor's blood type, etc. I am that good.

So when Facebook is misbehaving and making my stalking practically impossible, I rage. I can't find out who the person who sits next to me in French is (actually that's a lie; I know exactly who he is and I've already gone through all of his photos.) I can't find out who Gabriel/Cameron really is and still wish that I had talked to him more. BUT MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL, I can't find my foods friend. All I know is his first name, and at that, I don't know the proper spelling of it. What does this mean for me? I actually have to interact with people in person? Heaven forbid.

But that's what society has become. Or at least, that's what I've become. Facebook has become my shield, a wall to hide behind. I can be tough and ballsy on Facebook and not worry about what happens. But in person, I'm not going to just walk up to someone and start having a deep conversation with them about why their grandmother can't remember their name and what really happened to their sister's sanity... Society demands that we be fearless online, but not in person. Face to face interactions are becoming few and far between. Is this a good thing? Is this a bad thing? Who knows.

What I do know, however, is that on the internet, no one knows you're a cat.