Let's open this for discussion.
Is it.
Ever.
Appropriate.
To add a random human.
On The Facebook Dot Com?
I imagine the conversation going a little something like this, should there happen to be a conversation.
Human A (who is the person receiving the random request) "Ummm, Human B, I don't even know you?"
Human B [who is the creeper (or are they?) who sent the random request] "Ah! You do not, in fact. But you are about to."
Some possible scenarios that may go down from here:
- blocking
- ignoring
- reporting to The Facebook Dot Com
- deleting of message
- responding
My gut instinct tells me that the last item here is the least probable of results, but I could be wrong, having not truly done this to anyone. Although, I should say, for argument's sake, that this has happened to me. And I have just deleted the request and, more often than not, blocked the human.
Statistical reports I'm actively compiling in my head suggest that the most probable result is ignoring. Ye Olde "If I don't pay attention to it, it never happened" method is commonly employed by young users of the social networking world. In fact, just over 72% of these reports state that ignoring is likely to happen at least 28% of the time. These reports are highly restricted in access to the general public, so I would tell you where they come from, however I'm sworn to secrecy. Even writing about the reports here may result in my certain death. Please note, if I am suddenly found to have ceased posting cat photos of the lovely Luna Chang in the next month, you all know why. You won't know who per say, but you will know why, and that's half the battle.
I digress.
Random messages to random humans leading to random addings of friends without first conversing is sure to lead to doom and gloom. Stray away, if you dare.
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Thursday, February 25, 2016
The Exact Art and Subtle Science of Becoming Your Parents
"Hannah, you're really becoming more and more like your mother."
I heard this statement said aloud while driving home on a solo return from the Holy Granger's Middle Name home this evening. It so happens that House of Pain's symphonic masterpiece, "Jump Around" was serenading me on my journey, and one hears such intricate melodies, one must rejoice to the high heavens above through an appropriate means of artistic expression--Dance!
(For those unfamiliar with Pain House Boston Boys rapping, or if you're wanting to watch footage of a Leicester High School Bagpiping Miracle Man, you may click here.)
Now, dancing in the car is a skill not to be underestimated. The ability to maneuver your body in such a fashion that both articulates your affinity for the music you are hearing, combined with not sacrificing the safety of those in your speeding death trap, it a feat mastered by few.
Often, in these instances where I am struck with such inspiration, I am compelled to exercise these skills. Others traveling in their speeding death traps are amazed by my moves which can only be perfected through years of practice. They may show their amazement by extending single fingers (a pointing gesture, if you will) or perhaps by pulling out their personal recording devices (I believe we are now calling them cellular phones?) or even simply by opening their facial food consumption device (a mouth?) and making strange uncontrollable noises.
As it were, these movements mimic those of a maternal influence in my life. This particular style of artistic expression is marked by snapping, excessive arm waving, slight hip shimmying, and side-to-side head whipping. Not everyone can grab hold of these movements with such precision, and I weep for them.
Just this evening, I was laying out my vitamins, allergy avoidance pills, and more, downing them with wine (as if there were any other way) and it came to me, as though through a secret whispered telegram (beep beeeeeeeeeep bee-bee-beeeep), that my name should be changed. Hannah? More like young Hannah's Mother (think a popular Creedance Clearwater Revival song mentioning fondness for ways of speaking and style of gait.) If this was too much for you, then you don't have enough of Hannah's Father in you (a recent-ish Presidential candidate.) Or maybe you don't have enough of Hannah in you. In which case, I weep still for you.
Maybe I don't have enough Hannah in me?! Is it possible to not have enough of yourself in you? Can I possibly be more Hannah?
The answer is yes, and the answer will be coming soon [to a theater/theatre (personal preference) near you] in the form of furry feline companion. Stay tuned! More updates to be published in the coming weeks.
I heard this statement said aloud while driving home on a solo return from the Holy Granger's Middle Name home this evening. It so happens that House of Pain's symphonic masterpiece, "Jump Around" was serenading me on my journey, and one hears such intricate melodies, one must rejoice to the high heavens above through an appropriate means of artistic expression--Dance!
(For those unfamiliar with Pain House Boston Boys rapping, or if you're wanting to watch footage of a Leicester High School Bagpiping Miracle Man, you may click here.)
Now, dancing in the car is a skill not to be underestimated. The ability to maneuver your body in such a fashion that both articulates your affinity for the music you are hearing, combined with not sacrificing the safety of those in your speeding death trap, it a feat mastered by few.
Often, in these instances where I am struck with such inspiration, I am compelled to exercise these skills. Others traveling in their speeding death traps are amazed by my moves which can only be perfected through years of practice. They may show their amazement by extending single fingers (a pointing gesture, if you will) or perhaps by pulling out their personal recording devices (I believe we are now calling them cellular phones?) or even simply by opening their facial food consumption device (a mouth?) and making strange uncontrollable noises.
As it were, these movements mimic those of a maternal influence in my life. This particular style of artistic expression is marked by snapping, excessive arm waving, slight hip shimmying, and side-to-side head whipping. Not everyone can grab hold of these movements with such precision, and I weep for them.
Just this evening, I was laying out my vitamins, allergy avoidance pills, and more, downing them with wine (as if there were any other way) and it came to me, as though through a secret whispered telegram (beep beeeeeeeeeep bee-bee-beeeep), that my name should be changed. Hannah? More like young Hannah's Mother (think a popular Creedance Clearwater Revival song mentioning fondness for ways of speaking and style of gait.) If this was too much for you, then you don't have enough of Hannah's Father in you (a recent-ish Presidential candidate.) Or maybe you don't have enough of Hannah in you. In which case, I weep still for you.
Maybe I don't have enough Hannah in me?! Is it possible to not have enough of yourself in you? Can I possibly be more Hannah?
The answer is yes, and the answer will be coming soon [to a theater/theatre (personal preference) near you] in the form of furry feline companion. Stay tuned! More updates to be published in the coming weeks.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
The Armadillos
Once upon a time...
In a land not so far away (Orlando. Let's make this clear from the start. We're talking about Orlando. Not to be confused with Lake Buena Vista. Or Kissimmee. Or St. Cloud. Or Dr. Phillips. But Orlando, yes, Orlando.) (How many times can I write Orlando in a single post? Challenge accepted.) there were some armadillos.
Papa Armadillo, Momma Armadillo, and Baby Armadillo. One day, these three armadillos went outside of their humble abode to search for additional food (Baby Armadillo was the top pizza consumer in all of Orange County, despite popular belief of it being Hannah Richardson.) They searched far and they searched wide, but never could they find enough to satisfy Baby Armadillo's needs.
While they were out, a stranger (in a strange land) came across their living quarters. Locks of gold, this girl had! And she went to Papa and Momma Armadillo's bed (because she's in a strange land, so naturally she's *tired* and doesn't mind sleeping in some stranger's house.) "This bed is too hard!" she said, while also noting the MASSIVE indent from their bodies (not the brightest, this one, essentially sleeping in a semi-sphere bed...major back problems in the morning if she'd decided to stay.) So she moseyed on over to Baby Armadillo's room and found his bed. "This bed smells like pizza..." Locks of gold said out loud to nobody in particular. "And it looks like pizza too! IT IS PIZZA!"
Baby Armadillo, while searching for additional food, suddenly remember that his entire house was made of pizza. His parents were made of pizza! HIS LIFE WAS MADE OF PIZZA AND IT WAS A SHAM! Baby Armadillo rushed back to his house, found Locks of gold and invited her to his pizza party. They merrily consumed Papa and Momma Armadillo while feeling no remorse or grief. After all, non-pizza Papa and Momma Armadillo had left Baby Armadillo months ago for a late-night stroll along International Drive South, never to return. The pizza was delicious, Baby Armadillo was satisfied with his consumption, Locks of gold made a mental note that a pizza bed was now what she most desired in life, and they all lived happily ever after.
OR DID THEY.
Papa and Momma Armadillo hadn't really been hit by a car, as a nondescript earlier story would have you believe. They simply did not wish to care for their pizza-munching monster of a child any longer. They can still be seen taking their nightly strolls from time to time, as long as the temperature outside is at least 78 degrees per Roonil Wazlib's measurements. I see them often and wonder about pizza beds...
The end.
In a land not so far away (Orlando. Let's make this clear from the start. We're talking about Orlando. Not to be confused with Lake Buena Vista. Or Kissimmee. Or St. Cloud. Or Dr. Phillips. But Orlando, yes, Orlando.) (How many times can I write Orlando in a single post? Challenge accepted.) there were some armadillos.
Papa Armadillo, Momma Armadillo, and Baby Armadillo. One day, these three armadillos went outside of their humble abode to search for additional food (Baby Armadillo was the top pizza consumer in all of Orange County, despite popular belief of it being Hannah Richardson.) They searched far and they searched wide, but never could they find enough to satisfy Baby Armadillo's needs.
While they were out, a stranger (in a strange land) came across their living quarters. Locks of gold, this girl had! And she went to Papa and Momma Armadillo's bed (because she's in a strange land, so naturally she's *tired* and doesn't mind sleeping in some stranger's house.) "This bed is too hard!" she said, while also noting the MASSIVE indent from their bodies (not the brightest, this one, essentially sleeping in a semi-sphere bed...major back problems in the morning if she'd decided to stay.) So she moseyed on over to Baby Armadillo's room and found his bed. "This bed smells like pizza..." Locks of gold said out loud to nobody in particular. "And it looks like pizza too! IT IS PIZZA!"
Baby Armadillo, while searching for additional food, suddenly remember that his entire house was made of pizza. His parents were made of pizza! HIS LIFE WAS MADE OF PIZZA AND IT WAS A SHAM! Baby Armadillo rushed back to his house, found Locks of gold and invited her to his pizza party. They merrily consumed Papa and Momma Armadillo while feeling no remorse or grief. After all, non-pizza Papa and Momma Armadillo had left Baby Armadillo months ago for a late-night stroll along International Drive South, never to return. The pizza was delicious, Baby Armadillo was satisfied with his consumption, Locks of gold made a mental note that a pizza bed was now what she most desired in life, and they all lived happily ever after.
OR DID THEY.
Papa and Momma Armadillo hadn't really been hit by a car, as a nondescript earlier story would have you believe. They simply did not wish to care for their pizza-munching monster of a child any longer. They can still be seen taking their nightly strolls from time to time, as long as the temperature outside is at least 78 degrees per Roonil Wazlib's measurements. I see them often and wonder about pizza beds...
The end.
Monday, September 1, 2014
The One About Robin--THE SCARIEST THING I'VE ENCOUNTERED THUS FAR...
Not in the sense of being about How I Met Your Mother.
Nor in the sense of being about Friends.
Nor in the sense of being about work (but I'm tagging you because I told you I'd tag you. -Patrice)
It's actually not about any of those things, but really about
HAIR CLUMPS.
As someone who is quite afraid of spiders, I must state this with no sarcastic tones whatsoever: hair clumps terrify me. (I hope that did make sense, but I'm not in the right mind to go back and correct it if it does not make sense.) When my hair was longer, it used to clump up on my clothes when I would do laundry and I would often find it poking through shirt arms, resting underneath my pants pockets, or hanging down from the bottom of my hemming.
I like to have a fan going in my room the majority of the year.
It just so happens that on my pajama pants tonight, there was a hair clump, of the generally dark-colored nature. When one is not entirely devoted to staring at their pants while sitting on the bed, a certain rotating fan may cause a certain hair clump to move in the breeze. This specific motion may resemble spider-like movements.
It does resemble spider-like movements.
I thought there was a spider on my pants. A large, spindly spider on my pants.
Alas, a hair clump. My heart jumped into my mouth for no reason.
Time went on. The fan kept rotating, I regained a calm, steady heartbeat. When suddenly
OH GOD IT'S ANOTHER SPIDER. In the exact same spot as the last one! With the same body composure! And the same coloring! And it moves exactly the same way...
Wait. It's a hair clump. The same hair clump I neglected to move from earlier. The same hair clump that has now caused my heart to beat intensely on more than one occasion. The hair clump don't know it is killing me very good.
The only thing worse (currently) than a hair clump posing as a spider, other than it being an actual spider on my leg, is this beautiful work of art:
Nor in the sense of being about Friends.
Nor in the sense of being about work (but I'm tagging you because I told you I'd tag you. -Patrice)
It's actually not about any of those things, but really about
HAIR CLUMPS.
As someone who is quite afraid of spiders, I must state this with no sarcastic tones whatsoever: hair clumps terrify me. (I hope that did make sense, but I'm not in the right mind to go back and correct it if it does not make sense.) When my hair was longer, it used to clump up on my clothes when I would do laundry and I would often find it poking through shirt arms, resting underneath my pants pockets, or hanging down from the bottom of my hemming.
I like to have a fan going in my room the majority of the year.
It just so happens that on my pajama pants tonight, there was a hair clump, of the generally dark-colored nature. When one is not entirely devoted to staring at their pants while sitting on the bed, a certain rotating fan may cause a certain hair clump to move in the breeze. This specific motion may resemble spider-like movements.
It does resemble spider-like movements.
I thought there was a spider on my pants. A large, spindly spider on my pants.
Alas, a hair clump. My heart jumped into my mouth for no reason.
Time went on. The fan kept rotating, I regained a calm, steady heartbeat. When suddenly
OH GOD IT'S ANOTHER SPIDER. In the exact same spot as the last one! With the same body composure! And the same coloring! And it moves exactly the same way...
Wait. It's a hair clump. The same hair clump I neglected to move from earlier. The same hair clump that has now caused my heart to beat intensely on more than one occasion. The hair clump don't know it is killing me very good.
The only thing worse (currently) than a hair clump posing as a spider, other than it being an actual spider on my leg, is this beautiful work of art:
Sleep soundly, cherubs.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
A cabbage is a cabbage, a lettuce is a lettuce
Three is the number of the day, so it seems.
Three days until my birthday!
Three years until 33!
Three recipes tried for pizza dough!
Three truths and one lie!
I hope you all know that I'm NOT 33. I have 9 years and 3 days until that time comes, which I suppose is also a signifier of three, seeing as how the number is divisible by 3 (3 years and 1 day for those who are not feeling mathematically inclined at the moment.)
I'm currently waiting for 6:15 to come around, because I need to punch my bread some more. (I just went searching for an image of someone punching bread, but unfortunately all of the images are of people punching dough, which is exactly what I will be doing.) But I was really hoping for a picture of someone punching bread. Maybe if I have extra dough and do decide to make actual baguettes with the leftover dough, I'll take a picture of me punching bread. Strange picture searchers of the world, rejoice!
Three is also significant today because it was my third haircut with the short hair. I initially cut it off at the end of May, got a new, shorter cut in June, and let it grow two months this go around because...I'm growing it back out. It was a great run, but I'm starting to miss my long hair. It will be much healthier this time because since May, I've only had it blow-dried while at the hair salon (meaning 3 times) so it won't have the heat damage that my hair was experiencing right before the chopping.
Hopefully the baguette recipe bodes well for pizza dough/crust. I'll be sure to take lots of pictures and post tomorrow! FOR SCIENCE!
Three days until my birthday!
Three years until 33!
Three recipes tried for pizza dough!
Three truths and one lie!
I hope you all know that I'm NOT 33. I have 9 years and 3 days until that time comes, which I suppose is also a signifier of three, seeing as how the number is divisible by 3 (3 years and 1 day for those who are not feeling mathematically inclined at the moment.)
I'm currently waiting for 6:15 to come around, because I need to punch my bread some more. (I just went searching for an image of someone punching bread, but unfortunately all of the images are of people punching dough, which is exactly what I will be doing.) But I was really hoping for a picture of someone punching bread. Maybe if I have extra dough and do decide to make actual baguettes with the leftover dough, I'll take a picture of me punching bread. Strange picture searchers of the world, rejoice!
Three is also significant today because it was my third haircut with the short hair. I initially cut it off at the end of May, got a new, shorter cut in June, and let it grow two months this go around because...I'm growing it back out. It was a great run, but I'm starting to miss my long hair. It will be much healthier this time because since May, I've only had it blow-dried while at the hair salon (meaning 3 times) so it won't have the heat damage that my hair was experiencing right before the chopping.
Hopefully the baguette recipe bodes well for pizza dough/crust. I'll be sure to take lots of pictures and post tomorrow! FOR SCIENCE!
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
This post has no appropriate title
Although I could call it "my thoughts on love," but who'd really want to read that?
I'm laying in my bed right now (laying? lying? cozied)--I'm cozied in my bed right now, thinking about the fact that my room is a bit too warm for comfort. I cannot sleep under the covers currently because my room is just that stuffy. Blankets will suffocate. Nevermind the fact that my sheet has somehow gone missing (I'm a firm believer that making your bed is pointless: you're just getting right back into it anyway.) This leaves me with a fuzzy brown blanket, which is perfect for cold winter nights, but not so ideal for warm late-spring nights, and a brown comforter with down-alternative filling. When did my life become so brown? And so insulating? Why am I not properly prepped for my pending move to Florida?
The fuzzy blanket used to be pink until a certain fluffy cat decided to turn it into his own personal litter box. No, I did not turn the pink blanket brown (nor did he), I simply replaced the ruined pink blanket with an identical brown blanket. And then the cat was never allowed on the bed again. Ahem.
I just watched "The Book Thief" with my parents tonight and while it did not emotionally wreck me as it did my mom, I did feel one thing: ultimately dull. I keep feeling this over and over since I have graduated. I am a dull person. I do dull things. I live a dull life. I eat dull foods. I have a dull daily routine. Maybe that is why I switched up my hair last week: I was tired of doing the same thing with my hair. I was tired of wanting to have short hair, so instead I just acquired...short hair! And while tonight resulted in my feeling like a dull person, ultimately the shorter hair has made me feel bolder and more outgoing. I can go anywhere!
I'm laying in my bed right now (laying? lying? cozied)--I'm cozied in my bed right now, thinking about the fact that my room is a bit too warm for comfort. I cannot sleep under the covers currently because my room is just that stuffy. Blankets will suffocate. Nevermind the fact that my sheet has somehow gone missing (I'm a firm believer that making your bed is pointless: you're just getting right back into it anyway.) This leaves me with a fuzzy brown blanket, which is perfect for cold winter nights, but not so ideal for warm late-spring nights, and a brown comforter with down-alternative filling. When did my life become so brown? And so insulating? Why am I not properly prepped for my pending move to Florida?
The fuzzy blanket used to be pink until a certain fluffy cat decided to turn it into his own personal litter box. No, I did not turn the pink blanket brown (nor did he), I simply replaced the ruined pink blanket with an identical brown blanket. And then the cat was never allowed on the bed again. Ahem.
I just watched "The Book Thief" with my parents tonight and while it did not emotionally wreck me as it did my mom, I did feel one thing: ultimately dull. I keep feeling this over and over since I have graduated. I am a dull person. I do dull things. I live a dull life. I eat dull foods. I have a dull daily routine. Maybe that is why I switched up my hair last week: I was tired of doing the same thing with my hair. I was tired of wanting to have short hair, so instead I just acquired...short hair! And while tonight resulted in my feeling like a dull person, ultimately the shorter hair has made me feel bolder and more outgoing. I can go anywhere!
Note: after this, all is new writing (as of 8/27)
My life is dull, but only because I choose to make it so! The beautiful thing about life is that we are in control! Not fully, but to an extent. My mom has always told me (much to my dismay) that life is all about choices. You can choose to do A or B in situation C. Maybe somebody is forcing you at gun point to do option T, but it is still your choice whether you want to do option T or option U. Granted, choosing option U may get you shot...but it's still your choice! You hold the cards! You are the master of your fate! Of your life! You want to change something then make it happen!
I want to make a better pizza crust! So I'm experimenting with various recipes to make it happen! This isn't exactly a life-altering decision, but I'll be damned if it doesn't mean that I'm always going to make pizza at home instead of searching and searching for the best pizza around. I still think that either Giorgio's (who I did not eat at during my pizza search this summer because I already know their pizza to be amazing) or Jockamo take the cake. Or pie. Pie is probably the more appropriate term to use in this instance. I also want other things, and I'm working on those other things, but there is a time and place to announce them and this is neither the time nor the place. Actually, it probably is the place, but it is definitely not the time!
Fear not! Ye shall know soon!
Four days until my birthday!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
I really need to go to the store but I just wanted to say
I LOVE LIFE!
Today was fabulous for little to no reason at all other than the world is a beautiful place. People fall in love! Babies are born! Puppies find homes! Kittens are cuddled! OATMEAL IS PLANNED AND SMOOTHIES ARE CONCOCTED!
I want to go get some of that powder peanut butter: have any of you tried it?
WILL YOU JOIN ME IN SINGING THE GREAT SONG OF OUR NATION?
No, not the National Anthem ('MERICA!)
"Maneater" covered by Grace Mitchell. (This is not in any way an implication that I am a man-eater) *crunches bones in corner*
WELL, GIVE IT A WAVE!
Seriously. What a great cover. I feel on top of the world!
The time for dancing has come.
Today was fabulous for little to no reason at all other than the world is a beautiful place. People fall in love! Babies are born! Puppies find homes! Kittens are cuddled! OATMEAL IS PLANNED AND SMOOTHIES ARE CONCOCTED!
I want to go get some of that powder peanut butter: have any of you tried it?
WILL YOU JOIN ME IN SINGING THE GREAT SONG OF OUR NATION?
No, not the National Anthem ('MERICA!)
"Maneater" covered by Grace Mitchell. (This is not in any way an implication that I am a man-eater) *crunches bones in corner*
Seriously. What a great cover. I feel on top of the world!
The time for dancing has come.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Pizza Review Number 2!
BELLACINOS.
Okay, honestly, it wasn't that great. Nothing spectacular stood out about this pizza as far as food is concerned. The staff, however, was actually quite stellar (I had a LivingSocial coupon and not only was he very knowledgeable about the coupon, he informed me of how to make my meal completely free. Awesome!) He was kind, courteous, and entertaining! Just like a good dog should be. I think I'm most certainly losing my mind.
I'm not certain whether they have other locations, but my younger sister and I visited the Carmel location close to Old Meridian Street, just off of 31 or 32, whichever one they have massive construction on right now. What a pain! Thankfully, from friends formerly living over in the area, I know the way to get around everything, but still! Agh! Construction, how you are not my friend. At all.
We each had personal calzones, which is one of our favorite things from our Massachusetts pizzeria: PHOP (Paxton House of Pizza) The innards were okay. They weren't bad, but it certainly wasn't a flavor that would drag me back to them time and time again. The crust wasn't as crisp and flaky as I would have liked, the pizza sauce for dipping was lacking in oomph, and the cheese was a bit skimpy. I'm not sure entirely what my sister thought (I should really develop an outline on how to do this) but she didn't not eat. So...I guess she liked it?
We did order cinnamon dessert stick things. It was basically a small pizza crust with cinnamon sugar (not enough cinnamon) and cinnamon roll glaze (not enough of that either) on top. Pretty sweet tasting, but could have been so much more.
Overall, if I didn't have a coupon, I would not be returning to Bellacinos. Just not my cup of tea.
Okay, honestly, it wasn't that great. Nothing spectacular stood out about this pizza as far as food is concerned. The staff, however, was actually quite stellar (I had a LivingSocial coupon and not only was he very knowledgeable about the coupon, he informed me of how to make my meal completely free. Awesome!) He was kind, courteous, and entertaining! Just like a good dog should be. I think I'm most certainly losing my mind.
I'm not certain whether they have other locations, but my younger sister and I visited the Carmel location close to Old Meridian Street, just off of 31 or 32, whichever one they have massive construction on right now. What a pain! Thankfully, from friends formerly living over in the area, I know the way to get around everything, but still! Agh! Construction, how you are not my friend. At all.
We each had personal calzones, which is one of our favorite things from our Massachusetts pizzeria: PHOP (Paxton House of Pizza) The innards were okay. They weren't bad, but it certainly wasn't a flavor that would drag me back to them time and time again. The crust wasn't as crisp and flaky as I would have liked, the pizza sauce for dipping was lacking in oomph, and the cheese was a bit skimpy. I'm not sure entirely what my sister thought (I should really develop an outline on how to do this) but she didn't not eat. So...I guess she liked it?
We did order cinnamon dessert stick things. It was basically a small pizza crust with cinnamon sugar (not enough cinnamon) and cinnamon roll glaze (not enough of that either) on top. Pretty sweet tasting, but could have been so much more.
Overall, if I didn't have a coupon, I would not be returning to Bellacinos. Just not my cup of tea.
Friday, May 2, 2014
This One's For You
Dear Sir or Madame who viewed my blog 20 times last night at 4 a.m.,
Did you find what you were looking for? What were you looking for? Perhaps you were merely stuck on my page and it continuously refreshed and caused my page views to jump dramatically?
I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you, but may I just say... Hi. How ya doin?
xoxo Chromelyfe
Did you find what you were looking for? What were you looking for? Perhaps you were merely stuck on my page and it continuously refreshed and caused my page views to jump dramatically?
I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you, but may I just say... Hi. How ya doin?
Who are you, mysterious blog viewer? Why were you up at 4 a.m.? Why were you viewing my blog 20 times in one hour? WHY ARE YOU STILL USING INTERNET EXPLORER?!
xoxo Chromelyfe
Friday, April 18, 2014
Pizza Review Numero Uno!
And yet, it was not Uno's Pizza!
No--it was Greeks! (in Zionsville)
Alright, so a little about Greeks. It was started in 1969 by some greek dude (you can read about it on the official website or you could not. That's your choice. I won't force you to read up on pizza in your spare time.) Greeks' homebase is in Muncie, IN, fueled by college students chowing down on some delicious pizza while "studying" for classes. Who's really going to study when they can just devour pizza?
I'm kicking myself for not taking a photo of the pizza (damn that hindsight 20/20 business) but it was pretty tasty. Started off with breadsticks that were covered in a garlic buttery mess of goodness (piping hot! Fresh from the oven!) They had the perfect amount of crisp on the outside with fluffy melt in your mouth inside. Mmm delicious. We ordered them with cheese dipping sauce instead of marinara and what's not to love about cheese and bread? I'll tell you: nothing. Cheese and bread is an ideal combo. Like Sampson and Delilah. Yogurt and Cheetos. Cheddar and Oreos. Grapes and Pretzels. All of these classic combinations clearly exemplify how wonderful cheese and bread are together. (Trust me on that Cheddar/Oreos claim.) Garlic butter, melted cheese, and bread are just a match made in heaven.
As I was accompanied by a well-versed Greeks connoisseur, I allowed him to choose the pizza selection for the evening. The pepperoni and sausage were simply asking us to consume them. I personally love when pepperoni becomes crisp and crunchy on the top of my pizza, and Greeks did not disappoint. Like all great pepperoni, there was grease, but not to an excessive degree. The sausage was...sausage. But the cheese was the real star of this pizza. On Greeks' website, they boast using all milk cheese rather than skim milk cheese, and I believe this to be their real strength: nothing can compare to perfect cheese. Their crust was nothing phenomenal (I do prefer heavy crusts) but the bottom of the pizza did have a nice crispness.
The service was friendly and not overbearing (thanks Ashley!) Restroom was clean, table was clean, everything was in working order! We were the only ones dining in at 5:30, though we were soon joined by an older couple ("I'm not supposed to drink for two weeks--I'll have a Coors Light!")
Quite an enjoyable experience. Not at the top of my list, but I would certainly chow down on their pizza again!
No--it was Greeks! (in Zionsville)
Alright, so a little about Greeks. It was started in 1969 by some greek dude (you can read about it on the official website or you could not. That's your choice. I won't force you to read up on pizza in your spare time.) Greeks' homebase is in Muncie, IN, fueled by college students chowing down on some delicious pizza while "studying" for classes. Who's really going to study when they can just devour pizza?
I'm kicking myself for not taking a photo of the pizza (damn that hindsight 20/20 business) but it was pretty tasty. Started off with breadsticks that were covered in a garlic buttery mess of goodness (piping hot! Fresh from the oven!) They had the perfect amount of crisp on the outside with fluffy melt in your mouth inside. Mmm delicious. We ordered them with cheese dipping sauce instead of marinara and what's not to love about cheese and bread? I'll tell you: nothing. Cheese and bread is an ideal combo. Like Sampson and Delilah. Yogurt and Cheetos. Cheddar and Oreos. Grapes and Pretzels. All of these classic combinations clearly exemplify how wonderful cheese and bread are together. (Trust me on that Cheddar/Oreos claim.) Garlic butter, melted cheese, and bread are just a match made in heaven.
As I was accompanied by a well-versed Greeks connoisseur, I allowed him to choose the pizza selection for the evening. The pepperoni and sausage were simply asking us to consume them. I personally love when pepperoni becomes crisp and crunchy on the top of my pizza, and Greeks did not disappoint. Like all great pepperoni, there was grease, but not to an excessive degree. The sausage was...sausage. But the cheese was the real star of this pizza. On Greeks' website, they boast using all milk cheese rather than skim milk cheese, and I believe this to be their real strength: nothing can compare to perfect cheese. Their crust was nothing phenomenal (I do prefer heavy crusts) but the bottom of the pizza did have a nice crispness.
The service was friendly and not overbearing (thanks Ashley!) Restroom was clean, table was clean, everything was in working order! We were the only ones dining in at 5:30, though we were soon joined by an older couple ("I'm not supposed to drink for two weeks--I'll have a Coors Light!")
Quite an enjoyable experience. Not at the top of my list, but I would certainly chow down on their pizza again!
Friday, April 11, 2014
Pizza
Because my life is so exciting and I have plenty of time to do things in my spare time, I've decided that I am, once again, setting out to find the best pizza. Previously I attempted to find the best frozen pizza. BUT WHAT ABOUT PIZZERIAS IN INDIANAPOLIS AND ITS SURROUNDING COMMUNITIES?! It must be done! (With the exclusion of chain sort of restaurants like Noble Roman's, Pizza Hut, Papa Johns, Dominos, etc.)
Pizza parlors I intend to dine at prior to moving away to Florida (for the sake of lists, I will denote pizza locations I have already dined at with a star): <-that should not be a sad face.
- Pizza King *
- Amore Pizzeria Ristorante *
- Greek's Pizza
- Zionsville Pizzeria *
- Fox's Den Pizza
- Roselli's Pizza *
- Jan's Village Pizza
- Pizza Harbour
- Pizza N Stuff
- Bub's Pizza
- Cool River Pizza
- Tony Sacco's Coal Oven Pizza *
- Bellacino's Pizza and Grinders
- Bazbeaux *
- Mellow Mushroom
- Some Guys Pizza Pasta Grill
- Pizzology
- Wise Guys Pizza
- Puccini's Smiling Teeth
- Bella Pizzeria
- Gramboli's Pizza
- Luca Pizza di Roma
- Circle City Pizza
- Pizza Pete's Original Italian
- Pasquale's Pizza and Pasta
- Pizza Doughmain
- Mozzi's Pizza
- Hometown Classic Pizza
- That Fun Place
- Don's Pizza and Pasta
- The Pizza Shop and Sister's Ice Cream
- Jacks Pizza
- Riccos Pizza
- Reds Corner Market
- The Willard
- Richard's Brick Oven Pizza
- Enzo Pizza
- Jockamo Upper Crust Pizza
- Barlo's Pizzeria
- Jet's Pizza
- Bob's Tu Your Door Pizza
- The Pizza Barn
- Monical's *
- Gallagher's Pizza
- Mugg-N-Pye
- Dawg House Pizzeria
- Casey's Carry Out Pizza
- Lil Mo's Pizzeria
- Grizzly's Pizza
- Pizzaville
- Sal's Famous Pizzeria
- Mediterranean Pizza
- Pittsboro Pizzeria
- Rockstar Pizza
- Piezano's Pizza
- Hungry Howie's
- Pizza Paradise
- Randelli's Gourmet Pizza
- Dave's All American Pizza
- Union Jack Pub
- MacKenzie River Pizza Co.
- Datsa Pizza
- WB Pizza
Holy cow. Okay, I did not realize there were that many pizza places in the donut counties. I'll just have to try and get to as many as possible. My Saturdays are now planned for me. Each time I try a new type, I'll write about it here. And it will be
EPIC.
Or just tasty. Or not so tasty. Hmm. Pizza. My favorite thing! If any of you notice somewhere that I left off, please comment on here or Facebook. Let the pizza munching begin! Also, if anyone wants to accompany me in my endeavor, do not hesitate to let me know!
Pizza parlors I intend to dine at prior to moving away to Florida (for the sake of lists, I will denote pizza locations I have already dined at with a star): <-that should not be a sad face.
- Pizza King *
- Amore Pizzeria Ristorante *
- Greek's Pizza
- Zionsville Pizzeria *
- Fox's Den Pizza
- Roselli's Pizza *
- Jan's Village Pizza
- Pizza Harbour
- Pizza N Stuff
- Bub's Pizza
- Cool River Pizza
- Tony Sacco's Coal Oven Pizza *
- Bellacino's Pizza and Grinders
- Bazbeaux *
- Mellow Mushroom
- Some Guys Pizza Pasta Grill
- Pizzology
- Wise Guys Pizza
- Puccini's Smiling Teeth
- Bella Pizzeria
- Gramboli's Pizza
- Luca Pizza di Roma
- Circle City Pizza
- Pizza Pete's Original Italian
- Pasquale's Pizza and Pasta
- Pizza Doughmain
- Mozzi's Pizza
- Hometown Classic Pizza
- That Fun Place
- Don's Pizza and Pasta
- The Pizza Shop and Sister's Ice Cream
- Jacks Pizza
- Riccos Pizza
- Reds Corner Market
- The Willard
- Richard's Brick Oven Pizza
- Enzo Pizza
- Jockamo Upper Crust Pizza
- Barlo's Pizzeria
- Jet's Pizza
- Bob's Tu Your Door Pizza
- The Pizza Barn
- Monical's *
- Gallagher's Pizza
- Mugg-N-Pye
- Dawg House Pizzeria
- Casey's Carry Out Pizza
- Lil Mo's Pizzeria
- Grizzly's Pizza
- Pizzaville
- Sal's Famous Pizzeria
- Mediterranean Pizza
- Pittsboro Pizzeria
- Rockstar Pizza
- Piezano's Pizza
- Hungry Howie's
- Pizza Paradise
- Randelli's Gourmet Pizza
- Dave's All American Pizza
- Union Jack Pub
- MacKenzie River Pizza Co.
- Datsa Pizza
- WB Pizza
Holy cow. Okay, I did not realize there were that many pizza places in the donut counties. I'll just have to try and get to as many as possible. My Saturdays are now planned for me. Each time I try a new type, I'll write about it here. And it will be
EPIC.
Or just tasty. Or not so tasty. Hmm. Pizza. My favorite thing! If any of you notice somewhere that I left off, please comment on here or Facebook. Let the pizza munching begin! Also, if anyone wants to accompany me in my endeavor, do not hesitate to let me know!
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Rats are Horcruxes
Last night's dream, in a nutshell:
I was in this really weird house. Everything was in sepia tones (not the first time this has happened for me. Apparently my dreams just adore shades of brown and cream.) So this house was Victorian style and almost had the layout of the Beetlejuice house: think of that for your basic mindset. Definitely had a tower sort of fixture. I was in this house and I was sleeping--how cruel that within your sleep you should be sleeping. At least let me do something exciting!--and I had woken up because I could hear something next to me. I frantically started smacking the pillows in my white metal frame bed (does this scream old style hospital to no one but me?) and heard something scream. I looked up and this man was watching me smack the crap out of my bedding. He began to tell me that I cannot find what I am looking for unless I truly know what it is that I am looking for. I racked my brain (see here for why rack is correct and not wrack) but could not come up with what was in my bed. Meanwhile, my level of absolute terror is rapidly increasing, rendering me practically worthless to even think of the word for banana or bed. The thing in my bed continues to make twitchy movements within a pillowcase and no matter how hard I try, the pillowcase refuses to open and show me its contents. The man, who looks remarkably like the Genie from California Adventure's Aladdin stage show, is still watching me, laughing at my struggling. I start yelling at him what various options are of what is stuck in the pillowcase, because more than anything I just want it to be gone. "Mouse! Spider! Bird! Squirrel! RAT!" And then POOF he disappeared and the pillowcase opened: it was a rat.
I quickly shut the pillowcase again and ran to the garage to throw the rat outside. While carrying the pillowcase, the rat was gnawing through the material, attempting to pull off a great escape. I grabbed it by its tail and began to swing it around in circles, winding up for a great toss into oblivion that is the side yard. My mom is now by my side, encouraging me to just shoot the rat (suddenly there's a gun at my feet) but I tell her I'd rather he just roam free outside (who knows if he has a family or not!) I toss him into the side yard, certain he's going to sail through the night air for yards, but he bit my hand just as I was about to release him so I fumbled the freeing. He hit the ground and immediately ran to return to the house. "WHAT IS WITH THIS RAT?!" I screamed at my mom as we were running back to the garage to shut the door and keep the rat from reentering the house. The rat latched onto my shin and I screamed out in pain. I grabbed a baseball bat from within the garage and began to beat the rat. As I beat the rat, images were flying out of its mouth in horcrux fashion. "People" flooded out of his mouth, yelling at me that I am not good enough, that I am lazy, and that I cannot keep a clean house (why is this something I was worried about?) After nearly beating the rat to a pulp, I once again attempted to throw the rat into the yard. This time,
I woke up.
Lame. Don't even get to know the ending of my own dream. What thievery, damned alarm clock (phone)!
Confession: I've never watched Austin Powers, so I don't know why I use the line. Harumph.
 |
| Help! I'm in a nutshell! Borrowed from hark.com |
I quickly shut the pillowcase again and ran to the garage to throw the rat outside. While carrying the pillowcase, the rat was gnawing through the material, attempting to pull off a great escape. I grabbed it by its tail and began to swing it around in circles, winding up for a great toss into oblivion that is the side yard. My mom is now by my side, encouraging me to just shoot the rat (suddenly there's a gun at my feet) but I tell her I'd rather he just roam free outside (who knows if he has a family or not!) I toss him into the side yard, certain he's going to sail through the night air for yards, but he bit my hand just as I was about to release him so I fumbled the freeing. He hit the ground and immediately ran to return to the house. "WHAT IS WITH THIS RAT?!" I screamed at my mom as we were running back to the garage to shut the door and keep the rat from reentering the house. The rat latched onto my shin and I screamed out in pain. I grabbed a baseball bat from within the garage and began to beat the rat. As I beat the rat, images were flying out of its mouth in horcrux fashion. "People" flooded out of his mouth, yelling at me that I am not good enough, that I am lazy, and that I cannot keep a clean house (why is this something I was worried about?) After nearly beating the rat to a pulp, I once again attempted to throw the rat into the yard. This time,
I woke up.
Lame. Don't even get to know the ending of my own dream. What thievery, damned alarm clock (phone)!
Confession: I've never watched Austin Powers, so I don't know why I use the line. Harumph.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Cold Night Cozies
It's really cold. Like, super cold. Allow me to sound as Valley Girl as possible right now. Like, totally really cold. I can't even, like, think of other words. It's like the weather has, like, frozen my brain, you know? And I can't think, like, at all? What does this mean? Is this, like, the end of my thoughts? Like, let's make a deal!
With Mother Nature. Seriously, lady, it's been cold enough this winter. I saw on the news tonight that with tonight's temperature, we're evening with the record of nights under 0 degrees with 2005/2006 winter. Please stop this madness. I cannot handle anymore.
My mom posted a link today of 20 things a future spouse should have before you marry them or something something. I agree with all of them. For the article/blog, see here. In regard to number 17, I'm really not that hard to please, I promise. A large nose and dark hair. Preferably tall. As Steven has been so kind as to point out, I want a Jew. I would not be opposed. [Insert Jewish stereotype here about how much money we would save and how I really don't want to be a coupon clipping wife all of my life so perhaps I should not marry a Jew who truly falls into the stereotypical category of penny pincher.]
I have the sudden desire to ride an elephant at some point in my life. I think this goes along with thirst for adventure? Just no spiders. Please don't make me go to Australia and see spiders as big as my head.
I had a dream the other night about a man. Oh ho ho! What a scandal! Hannah, you scandalous lady! Do not tempt me further! It involved hanging out with this nameless man at his house, eating delicious sandwiches, and playing with his son (not our son.) I also met his family and they, of course, loved me. As all families should. I'd like to eat another one of those sandwiches just now. And find this guy. Duh. But sandwiches capture my heart more instantly. Oh god no wonder I'm not a model. Plus the whole 5'6" thing: there is nothing spectacular about being five and a half feet tall.
I already made a Potter status for The Half-Blood Prince and in sticking with my pattern of only one quote per book publicly posted, I shall post another lovely quote here instead to wrap up tonight's ramblings (which are arguably less happy than I would like, increasingly disorganized, and a bit odd like usual):
"What happened?"
"Cracked skull," said Madam Pomfrey, bustling up and pushing him back against his pillows. "Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I'm keeping you in overnight. You shouldn't overexert yourself for a few hours."
"I don't want to stay here overnight," said Harry angrily, sitting up and throwing back his covers. "I want to find McLaggen and kill him."
"I'm afraid that would come under the heading of 'overexertion,'" said Madam Pomfrey, pushing him firmly back onto the bed and raising her wand in a threatening manner.
Oh Harry, you scoundrel. Stop trying to hurt your Quidditch team members!
With Mother Nature. Seriously, lady, it's been cold enough this winter. I saw on the news tonight that with tonight's temperature, we're evening with the record of nights under 0 degrees with 2005/2006 winter. Please stop this madness. I cannot handle anymore.
My mom posted a link today of 20 things a future spouse should have before you marry them or something something. I agree with all of them. For the article/blog, see here. In regard to number 17, I'm really not that hard to please, I promise. A large nose and dark hair. Preferably tall. As Steven has been so kind as to point out, I want a Jew. I would not be opposed. [Insert Jewish stereotype here about how much money we would save and how I really don't want to be a coupon clipping wife all of my life so perhaps I should not marry a Jew who truly falls into the stereotypical category of penny pincher.]
I have the sudden desire to ride an elephant at some point in my life. I think this goes along with thirst for adventure? Just no spiders. Please don't make me go to Australia and see spiders as big as my head.
I had a dream the other night about a man. Oh ho ho! What a scandal! Hannah, you scandalous lady! Do not tempt me further! It involved hanging out with this nameless man at his house, eating delicious sandwiches, and playing with his son (not our son.) I also met his family and they, of course, loved me. As all families should. I'd like to eat another one of those sandwiches just now. And find this guy. Duh. But sandwiches capture my heart more instantly. Oh god no wonder I'm not a model. Plus the whole 5'6" thing: there is nothing spectacular about being five and a half feet tall.
I already made a Potter status for The Half-Blood Prince and in sticking with my pattern of only one quote per book publicly posted, I shall post another lovely quote here instead to wrap up tonight's ramblings (which are arguably less happy than I would like, increasingly disorganized, and a bit odd like usual):
"What happened?"
"Cracked skull," said Madam Pomfrey, bustling up and pushing him back against his pillows. "Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I'm keeping you in overnight. You shouldn't overexert yourself for a few hours."
"I don't want to stay here overnight," said Harry angrily, sitting up and throwing back his covers. "I want to find McLaggen and kill him."
"I'm afraid that would come under the heading of 'overexertion,'" said Madam Pomfrey, pushing him firmly back onto the bed and raising her wand in a threatening manner.
Oh Harry, you scoundrel. Stop trying to hurt your Quidditch team members!
Friday, January 10, 2014
I Want Doughnuts
Donuts.
Dough-nuts.
Those delicious mini cakes that are fried and glazed and frosted and filled and heaven in my mouth.
Is there anything so magical as a doughnut? NO. THE ANSWER IS NO. We are, of course, forgetting the existence--I promise it's real--of the wizarding world and all sub-genres of that realm. But otherwise, doughnuts are the most magical. So magical, in fact, that they warrant day-long adventures to find the best doughnuts. Do I hear a re-do of that splendid day in the near future? Yes, Johnny from the Bronx, yes I do.
So I guess, now that I'm ten days into 2014, I should make a list of things I want to accomplish this year. Should I include things I know are already going to happen (because they're already booked) just for the sheer joy of knowing I'll accomplish AT LEAST ONE of my list items? Nah. Let the challenges...BEGIN! And may the odds be ever in my favor.
1. I want to get my passport. I've had one before, but that was prior to turning into an adult. Aka I was less than 16. Womp womp American government says you have to actually get a new passport after that age or some nonsense. Le sigh. My goal is to have applied for it by February 28th. Better be getting on that, home slice.
2. I want to get a real job. "But Hannah, you have real jobs! You make real money!" No, no I don't. I do have jobs, yes. And I do make actual money, yes. But these are not jobs that I want to be doing by the end of the year unless something in my life HAS GONE TERRIBLY WRONG. Which I hope it does not, but now that the fear has been laid out for all to see...wouldn't be completely unexpected. In the past few days, I've applied for almost ten different jobs (okay, so it's seven. Don't be so pushy) and I know that the odds are against me that one of them will work out. BUT IT'S 2014 AND I REALLY WANT SOMETHING TO WORK OUT FOR ME IF I WORK HARD ENOUGH FOR IT. Yup. #admittingit
3. I want to travel more. So this one goes hand-in-hand with the first one, and also goes with the listing I said I wouldn't do because it means that I have a guaranteed plus-one for Hannah success column (I'm going on a cruise to the Bahamas at the end of the month #coloryoujealous)... Yeah I'm not even going to continue. I just want to travel more. Which really doesn't sound accomplishable if I get a real job...UNLESS MY JOB INVOLVES TRAVELING!!
4. I want to write more than once a month. At the beginning of 2013, I was doing great with the blogging! Multiple times a month, ideas were regularly flowing, blah blah blah. And then the final semester of college hit and I became an insufferable know-it-all. Actually, despite the harsh labeling by a certain Severus Snape, I was not such, I was just incredibly bogged down, as one of my few blogs from that time would suggest. 55 hours a week, full time school requirements, regular ping-pong tournaments, dance competitions, promises I don't intend to keep, etc. Just leave me alone! If you think of things I should write about, send me a message on Facebook. Shoot me a tweet. Comment on one of my blogs. I COULD DO AN ENTIRE SERIES ABOUT SOMETHING IF YOU'D JUST GIVE ME IDEAS. Let's form a partnership.
5. I want to read at least one book every two weeks. I was going to say "I want to read more" but given my reading habits during my college career...this would mean reading a book a year. I was then going to put "I want to read a book a month" but how hard is that? In the past two weeks, I've gone through two books and I'm finishing a third...probably tonight. As long as my old lady tendencies of falling asleep super early don't kick in. So, one book every two weeks. Or two books a month. Should not be that hard.
6. I want to stop feeling so sorry for myself. Plain and simple. Start thinking happy thoughts.
7. This isn't so much a resolution as it is a confession: if you post things on pinterest about a wedding you want and you aren't engaged, I probably stopped following that board. Sorry I'm not sorry, but your significant other shouldn't be the last piece to your perfectly planned event. That's just so many levels of wrong.
8. I want to eat more ice cream. And as I plan to move to a warmer climate with a new job (if everything works as I'd ideally like it) I think this is going to happen. Especially with the cruise at the end of the month: unlimited ice cream bar? Mickey premium bars to the room WHENEVER I WANT WITHOUT CHARGE? Yeah. The ice cream thing is happening. Not even a challenge, but I accept it.
9. Sandwiches.
I can't make ten items this year. I just can't. But god how I love sandwiches. Sandwiches and pizza. Mmm. Obviously I want food tonight. Maybe I should make a food blog instead of a blog about how much I want to eat food.
Dough-nuts.
Those delicious mini cakes that are fried and glazed and frosted and filled and heaven in my mouth.
Is there anything so magical as a doughnut? NO. THE ANSWER IS NO. We are, of course, forgetting the existence--I promise it's real--of the wizarding world and all sub-genres of that realm. But otherwise, doughnuts are the most magical. So magical, in fact, that they warrant day-long adventures to find the best doughnuts. Do I hear a re-do of that splendid day in the near future? Yes, Johnny from the Bronx, yes I do.
So I guess, now that I'm ten days into 2014, I should make a list of things I want to accomplish this year. Should I include things I know are already going to happen (because they're already booked) just for the sheer joy of knowing I'll accomplish AT LEAST ONE of my list items? Nah. Let the challenges...BEGIN! And may the odds be ever in my favor.
1. I want to get my passport. I've had one before, but that was prior to turning into an adult. Aka I was less than 16. Womp womp American government says you have to actually get a new passport after that age or some nonsense. Le sigh. My goal is to have applied for it by February 28th. Better be getting on that, home slice.
2. I want to get a real job. "But Hannah, you have real jobs! You make real money!" No, no I don't. I do have jobs, yes. And I do make actual money, yes. But these are not jobs that I want to be doing by the end of the year unless something in my life HAS GONE TERRIBLY WRONG. Which I hope it does not, but now that the fear has been laid out for all to see...wouldn't be completely unexpected. In the past few days, I've applied for almost ten different jobs (okay, so it's seven. Don't be so pushy) and I know that the odds are against me that one of them will work out. BUT IT'S 2014 AND I REALLY WANT SOMETHING TO WORK OUT FOR ME IF I WORK HARD ENOUGH FOR IT. Yup. #admittingit
3. I want to travel more. So this one goes hand-in-hand with the first one, and also goes with the listing I said I wouldn't do because it means that I have a guaranteed plus-one for Hannah success column (I'm going on a cruise to the Bahamas at the end of the month #coloryoujealous)... Yeah I'm not even going to continue. I just want to travel more. Which really doesn't sound accomplishable if I get a real job...UNLESS MY JOB INVOLVES TRAVELING!!
4. I want to write more than once a month. At the beginning of 2013, I was doing great with the blogging! Multiple times a month, ideas were regularly flowing, blah blah blah. And then the final semester of college hit and I became an insufferable know-it-all. Actually, despite the harsh labeling by a certain Severus Snape, I was not such, I was just incredibly bogged down, as one of my few blogs from that time would suggest. 55 hours a week, full time school requirements, regular ping-pong tournaments, dance competitions, promises I don't intend to keep, etc. Just leave me alone! If you think of things I should write about, send me a message on Facebook. Shoot me a tweet. Comment on one of my blogs. I COULD DO AN ENTIRE SERIES ABOUT SOMETHING IF YOU'D JUST GIVE ME IDEAS. Let's form a partnership.
5. I want to read at least one book every two weeks. I was going to say "I want to read more" but given my reading habits during my college career...this would mean reading a book a year. I was then going to put "I want to read a book a month" but how hard is that? In the past two weeks, I've gone through two books and I'm finishing a third...probably tonight. As long as my old lady tendencies of falling asleep super early don't kick in. So, one book every two weeks. Or two books a month. Should not be that hard.
6. I want to stop feeling so sorry for myself. Plain and simple. Start thinking happy thoughts.
7. This isn't so much a resolution as it is a confession: if you post things on pinterest about a wedding you want and you aren't engaged, I probably stopped following that board. Sorry I'm not sorry, but your significant other shouldn't be the last piece to your perfectly planned event. That's just so many levels of wrong.
8. I want to eat more ice cream. And as I plan to move to a warmer climate with a new job (if everything works as I'd ideally like it) I think this is going to happen. Especially with the cruise at the end of the month: unlimited ice cream bar? Mickey premium bars to the room WHENEVER I WANT WITHOUT CHARGE? Yeah. The ice cream thing is happening. Not even a challenge, but I accept it.
9. Sandwiches.
I can't make ten items this year. I just can't. But god how I love sandwiches. Sandwiches and pizza. Mmm. Obviously I want food tonight. Maybe I should make a food blog instead of a blog about how much I want to eat food.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Thoughts to Wrap Up 2013
I don't know if you all remember, but I wrote a blog post at the beginning of 2013 of things I wanted to accomplish this year. Just so you don't have to go looking for it, I'll put the list here.
1. I want to go to a baseball game (doesn't matter if it's in Indianapolis, Chicago, Cincinnati, Cleveland, etc. but it will happen.)
2. I want to go to a concert (Company of Thieves is coming to Bloomington this month. Weather permitting, I really want to attend.)
3. I want to visit my sister more (she's getting married! I need to help her plan this wedding!)
4. I want to get up earlier (sleeping in feels like you're wasting the day away.)
5. I want to pay more attention to my cat (and not by means of hacking off her fur...)
6. I want to open a savings account to start saving for moving to Florida.
7. If a movie comes to the theaters that I want to see, I will go see it! I don't need someone to go with me!
8. I want to get all A's in my classes, for the entire year. This includes spring, summer I, summer II, and fall. It can happen!
9. I want to be able to dance. Maybe that means white girl dancing, but I want to be able to dance when out with my friends and not care how I look.
10. I want to visit my friends more. You live in Michigan? Let me drive to Michigan. You live in Massachusetts? Fly to me. (haha) You live in Florida? I'll move in with you. I'm really bad at staying in touch with friends AND THIS MUST IMPROVE.
1. I want to go to a baseball game (doesn't matter if it's in Indianapolis, Chicago, Cincinnati, Cleveland, etc. but it will happen.)
2. I want to go to a concert (Company of Thieves is coming to Bloomington this month. Weather permitting, I really want to attend.)
3. I want to visit my sister more (she's getting married! I need to help her plan this wedding!)
4. I want to get up earlier (sleeping in feels like you're wasting the day away.)
5. I want to pay more attention to my cat (and not by means of hacking off her fur...)
6. I want to open a savings account to start saving for moving to Florida.
7. If a movie comes to the theaters that I want to see, I will go see it! I don't need someone to go with me!
8. I want to get all A's in my classes, for the entire year. This includes spring, summer I, summer II, and fall. It can happen!
9. I want to be able to dance. Maybe that means white girl dancing, but I want to be able to dance when out with my friends and not care how I look.
10. I want to visit my friends more. You live in Michigan? Let me drive to Michigan. You live in Massachusetts? Fly to me. (haha) You live in Florida? I'll move in with you. I'm really bad at staying in touch with friends AND THIS MUST IMPROVE.
So, did I accomplish these things?
1. Nope. I did not go to a baseball game. Did I go to any sports games this year? I can't remember. If you went to one with me, please let me know.
2. I did! I saw Macklemore AND IT WAS AWESOME!
3. Did I visit her more this year than last year? Not sure.
4. Unfortunately, this was true. I subbed a LOT and that means starting work at 7:30 am. No sleeping in with such a job.
5. I think I did. She certainly likes me more now that my little sister has gone away to college. SUCCESS.
6. Nope. No savings account.
7. I'm pretty sure I've kept up with this. There were very few movies I wanted to see this year that I didn't go see. I'm holding out on 2 right now, but I have definite plans to see one. The other will have to wait a bit longer.
8. Nope. Such is life.
9. I seriously made this part of my list? LOLOLOLOLOL. No. There are no further dancing skills. If anything, I've gotten worse. Did I dance more this year than 2012? Probably yes.
10. Umm...I went to Florida a lot this year. And I did go to California with three of my best lady friends :) I didn't make it up to Michigan (I really am sorry about this, but I hope to see you at least once in 2014.) I think overall I did a decent job of staying in better contact with people. Not spectacular, but better than years past.
I'm not making another list quite just yet. I'll get a feel for the year first. Maybe next week. OR NEVER.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
You're Going to Wish You Were Still in College!
No, no I'm not.
Let's look at how my schedule this final semester of my college career has been.
Monday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Class 18:00-20:40
Tuesday:
Walmart 09:00-14:30/09:30-15:00
Class 18:00-20:40
Wednesday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Thursday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Walmart 16:00-21:00
Friday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Walmart 16:00-21:00
Saturday:
The one day I have off.
Sunday:
Walmart 09:00-18:00
I'm ready for next month. I'm ready for classes to be done. I'm ready to not be working all of the time and studying in the other time I have. I'm ready to have time to myself and actually read books. Bring on the stress of a real job.
My college experience has been far from typical and I'm ready for it to be over. Let it happen and let it happen NOW.
Let's look at how my schedule this final semester of my college career has been.
Monday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Class 18:00-20:40
Tuesday:
Walmart 09:00-14:30/09:30-15:00
Class 18:00-20:40
Wednesday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Thursday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Walmart 16:00-21:00
Friday:
Subbing 07:30-15:00
Walmart 16:00-21:00
Saturday:
The one day I have off.
Sunday:
Walmart 09:00-18:00
I'm ready for next month. I'm ready for classes to be done. I'm ready to not be working all of the time and studying in the other time I have. I'm ready to have time to myself and actually read books. Bring on the stress of a real job.
My college experience has been far from typical and I'm ready for it to be over. Let it happen and let it happen NOW.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
The Time I Wrote Three Different Titles for One Blog
And three different blogs to accompany those three titles. Rather than start and stop and start and stop and start and publish like normal, I just started and erased and started and erased and started and (hopefully) published. Published. Ha! As if someone really proofreads what I write and make public to the internet and its readers. What does it mean to be published online anymore? Can I call this being published? I think not.
But perhaps I'm wrong. I frequently am. Except when arguing. #alwaysright
Confession:
That Justin Timberlake/Jimmy Fallon video that everyone was plastering all over Facebook about speaking in hashtags being absolutely ridiculous...I didn't find it ridiculous. Possibly because I do talk in hashtags. So much so, actually, that last fall I was banned from saying "hashtag" in the house. I had to say "mashed potato" instead.
For example (Hermione voices, people):
"Oh my god. That ice cream was so delicious. Hashtag I'm getting fat" #imgettingfat
now turns into
"Oh my god. That ice cream was so delicious. Mashed potato I'm getting fat" (potatoes that are mashed)imgettingfat
Or in the morning when heating up some bread
"Mashed potato hungry. Mashed potato making toast. Mashed potato where's the butter?"
Thankfully that ship has sailed and my oral hashtagging has calmed significantly. Do you hashtag in real life? Is this a normal thing to do?
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT
Leaving for Disney in 8 days! Huzzah!!! Heading out once Joe gets out of class around 6pm. DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE. Playing in the parks for a few days AND THEN OFF TO MY NEW WORK LOCATION. I'm excited. Nervous. Thrilled. Sick to my stomach. I'm actually super pumped about working at the Grand Floridian, but the fact that my work location, yet again, has a 40% deal to cast members kind of makes me nervous. Is it really that unpopular that they have to drag people in with a 40% price tag? Maybe I should check it out if it's 40% off at dinner... Cannot wait for food sampling during orientations!!! #imgettingfat (potatoes that are mashed)imgettingfat
Pump some pumpkin spice latte into my blood stream because
IT'S OCTOBER, WOODCHUCK CHUCKERS!
[bleep] yes!
That one was for you, Cora.
But perhaps I'm wrong. I frequently am. Except when arguing. #alwaysright
Confession:
That Justin Timberlake/Jimmy Fallon video that everyone was plastering all over Facebook about speaking in hashtags being absolutely ridiculous...I didn't find it ridiculous. Possibly because I do talk in hashtags. So much so, actually, that last fall I was banned from saying "hashtag" in the house. I had to say "mashed potato" instead.
For example (Hermione voices, people):
"Oh my god. That ice cream was so delicious. Hashtag I'm getting fat" #imgettingfat
now turns into
"Oh my god. That ice cream was so delicious. Mashed potato I'm getting fat" (potatoes that are mashed)imgettingfat
Or in the morning when heating up some bread
"Mashed potato hungry. Mashed potato making toast. Mashed potato where's the butter?"
Thankfully that ship has sailed and my oral hashtagging has calmed significantly. Do you hashtag in real life? Is this a normal thing to do?
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT
Leaving for Disney in 8 days! Huzzah!!! Heading out once Joe gets out of class around 6pm. DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE. Playing in the parks for a few days AND THEN OFF TO MY NEW WORK LOCATION. I'm excited. Nervous. Thrilled. Sick to my stomach. I'm actually super pumped about working at the Grand Floridian, but the fact that my work location, yet again, has a 40% deal to cast members kind of makes me nervous. Is it really that unpopular that they have to drag people in with a 40% price tag? Maybe I should check it out if it's 40% off at dinner... Cannot wait for food sampling during orientations!!! #imgettingfat (potatoes that are mashed)imgettingfat
Pump some pumpkin spice latte into my blood stream because
IT'S OCTOBER, WOODCHUCK CHUCKERS!
[bleep] yes!
That one was for you, Cora.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Things I Wish I Could Start Over
1. Toenail growth.
Not that I have really bad toenail fungus or that my toenails are going to stab someone's eye out (why are your eyes that close to my toes to begin with? did you put your face by my feet or are my feet by your face? do you deserve to have your eyes stabbed out with my toenails?) but really. My toenails are not in the best of shape. For pete's sake! One of them grows at such an angle upward that I regularly find holes in my socks AND EVEN MY SHOES because it's just ripping right through the material. No other toe does this. Please. Can't we just call it a draw and start over on this whole growing thing? You're really not doing me any favors by not being perfectly beautiful.
2. Hairbrushing methods.
A few of you who are quite close to me (or maybe just casual observers of my life who noticed the long-term effects of my habit) will know that this weekend I purchased a hair brush. I ceased hairbrushing practices in October 2004 when I chopped off a good majority of my hair and just never took it back. In the past almost 9 years since this glorious (fatal?) event, I have probably brushed my hair less than 50 times. Total. Let's look at the number breakdown.
9 years. 2012 was a leap year, as was 2008. 365 x 7 = 2555. 366 x 2 =732. 2555 + 732 = 3287. Take off about 2 months for the time between (even though we're in September and hair was chopped in October, we're at the beginning of the month and this occurred at the end of October. We'll give me the benefit of a doubt.) 3287 - 61 (again, being generous) = 3226. If I brushed my hair about 50 times between this haircut and now, I average a hairbrushing rate of about once every 64.5 days.
That's not a lot.
I saw something on Pinterest the other day--which obviously means it was true. Pinterest never lies--that said if you brush your hair regularly, it stimulates growth. Something about the constant movement of oils from the root of the hair to the end, something something. Basically it makes your hair nicer. Or you can just pay for keratin treatments. OR! Buy fancy keratin shampoo! I'm experimenting with this currently. Had straight hair without having to use the straightener. I love! Not sure about the grease levels quite just yet though. Hmph.
3. Athletics.
Yeah, I know. I should've been active all of my life. Blah blah. Why did I not push myself more athletically in elementary school? Middle school? High school? NOW? In elementary school, I remember thinking I was successful if I had a mile time of less than 20 minutes. I. Did. Not. Run. Ever. Walking a mile doesn't even take 20 minutes. How did I accomplish this? Was I really that lazy? Or was Penn Forest's "mile" far more than a mile? Music sort of got in the way of being athletically inclined when I got older ("Do you want to do harp or volleyball?" "harp." welcome to being lazy for life, Hannah. You'll love eating here.)
4. The beginning of college.
Why did I think I wanted to go into biology education? Or elementary education? Or math education?! Was I insane?!?!?! I could have taken so many more awesome classes if I had decided on communication studies earlier on in my college career. And I would have hopefully cared more about what I had been doing in those classes. I wish I had put forth more effort in my classes at the beginning of college. Can't change that now, obviously (Marty McFly WHERE ARE YOU?) but what a novel thought. "Hey, you." "Me?" "Yeah, freshman Hannah. This is super-senior Hannah. Stop wasting your time in education-related courses. You want to do comm. studies. Trust me. Go with it." "Okayyyy..." "GO FORTH!!" "...and multiply?" "I SAID NO MATH" I'd probably be really mean to my past self. Maybe eventually I'll have the opportunity to do this. But at that point, maybe I wouldn't have to go back to my past self because perhaps at the exact point I tell her to try harder, my current self would disappear. One day, nay, one moment, can change your life path forever. Don't mess with these things!
5. My want as a small child to wear glasses.
Who am I kidding? I still love wearing glasses. You go, little Hannah! You know what's stylish!
6. How I Met Your Mother.
I wish I'd never started watching it until it was already over. I wish I had discovered it years after it'd lost popularity. Lo! This show is fantabulous! I must spread this to the world! "It's already been declared. You're 10 years too late" *okay*
Yeah. Make it happen.
Not that I have really bad toenail fungus or that my toenails are going to stab someone's eye out (why are your eyes that close to my toes to begin with? did you put your face by my feet or are my feet by your face? do you deserve to have your eyes stabbed out with my toenails?) but really. My toenails are not in the best of shape. For pete's sake! One of them grows at such an angle upward that I regularly find holes in my socks AND EVEN MY SHOES because it's just ripping right through the material. No other toe does this. Please. Can't we just call it a draw and start over on this whole growing thing? You're really not doing me any favors by not being perfectly beautiful.
2. Hairbrushing methods.
A few of you who are quite close to me (or maybe just casual observers of my life who noticed the long-term effects of my habit) will know that this weekend I purchased a hair brush. I ceased hairbrushing practices in October 2004 when I chopped off a good majority of my hair and just never took it back. In the past almost 9 years since this glorious (fatal?) event, I have probably brushed my hair less than 50 times. Total. Let's look at the number breakdown.
9 years. 2012 was a leap year, as was 2008. 365 x 7 = 2555. 366 x 2 =732. 2555 + 732 = 3287. Take off about 2 months for the time between (even though we're in September and hair was chopped in October, we're at the beginning of the month and this occurred at the end of October. We'll give me the benefit of a doubt.) 3287 - 61 (again, being generous) = 3226. If I brushed my hair about 50 times between this haircut and now, I average a hairbrushing rate of about once every 64.5 days.
That's not a lot.
I saw something on Pinterest the other day--which obviously means it was true. Pinterest never lies--that said if you brush your hair regularly, it stimulates growth. Something about the constant movement of oils from the root of the hair to the end, something something. Basically it makes your hair nicer. Or you can just pay for keratin treatments. OR! Buy fancy keratin shampoo! I'm experimenting with this currently. Had straight hair without having to use the straightener. I love! Not sure about the grease levels quite just yet though. Hmph.
3. Athletics.
Yeah, I know. I should've been active all of my life. Blah blah. Why did I not push myself more athletically in elementary school? Middle school? High school? NOW? In elementary school, I remember thinking I was successful if I had a mile time of less than 20 minutes. I. Did. Not. Run. Ever. Walking a mile doesn't even take 20 minutes. How did I accomplish this? Was I really that lazy? Or was Penn Forest's "mile" far more than a mile? Music sort of got in the way of being athletically inclined when I got older ("Do you want to do harp or volleyball?" "harp." welcome to being lazy for life, Hannah. You'll love eating here.)
4. The beginning of college.
Why did I think I wanted to go into biology education? Or elementary education? Or math education?! Was I insane?!?!?! I could have taken so many more awesome classes if I had decided on communication studies earlier on in my college career. And I would have hopefully cared more about what I had been doing in those classes. I wish I had put forth more effort in my classes at the beginning of college. Can't change that now, obviously (Marty McFly WHERE ARE YOU?) but what a novel thought. "Hey, you." "Me?" "Yeah, freshman Hannah. This is super-senior Hannah. Stop wasting your time in education-related courses. You want to do comm. studies. Trust me. Go with it." "Okayyyy..." "GO FORTH!!" "...and multiply?" "I SAID NO MATH" I'd probably be really mean to my past self. Maybe eventually I'll have the opportunity to do this. But at that point, maybe I wouldn't have to go back to my past self because perhaps at the exact point I tell her to try harder, my current self would disappear. One day, nay, one moment, can change your life path forever. Don't mess with these things!
5. My want as a small child to wear glasses.
Who am I kidding? I still love wearing glasses. You go, little Hannah! You know what's stylish!
6. How I Met Your Mother.
I wish I'd never started watching it until it was already over. I wish I had discovered it years after it'd lost popularity. Lo! This show is fantabulous! I must spread this to the world! "It's already been declared. You're 10 years too late" *okay*
Yeah. Make it happen.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Ode to Pajamas
I walk into my room and kick off my shoes
AH!
Fresh air
The first breath my feet have had since the wee hours of the morning
Allowing them to bask in the sweetness, I lay on my bed
The dress comes off
Wait! No!
First the belt
That darn belt
Necessary for color popping
Unnecessary for everything else.
NOW the dress can come off
The final moment of decision:
Are the leggings or ARE THEY NOT part of the pajamas this evening?
Of course not!
Leggings are never part of pajamas!
What are you thinking Hannah?!
Leggings are only essential on hot days with dresses/skirts, cool days under pants, or school days when dresses/skirts are too short
You should know this by now.
I know, I know
But sometimes, you know, leggings are quite pleasant for lounging.
Hush your crazy mind
You're thinking in chaotic tones
Abandon those thoughts
Obviously lounge shorts are the ideal summer pajama wear
Tank tops
T-shirts
I live for pajamas
Pajamas, how I love thee.
Let us have pajama day
EVERY DAY.
AH!
Fresh air
The first breath my feet have had since the wee hours of the morning
Allowing them to bask in the sweetness, I lay on my bed
The dress comes off
Wait! No!
First the belt
That darn belt
Necessary for color popping
Unnecessary for everything else.
NOW the dress can come off
The final moment of decision:
Are the leggings or ARE THEY NOT part of the pajamas this evening?
Of course not!
Leggings are never part of pajamas!
What are you thinking Hannah?!
Leggings are only essential on hot days with dresses/skirts, cool days under pants, or school days when dresses/skirts are too short
You should know this by now.
I know, I know
But sometimes, you know, leggings are quite pleasant for lounging.
Hush your crazy mind
You're thinking in chaotic tones
Abandon those thoughts
Obviously lounge shorts are the ideal summer pajama wear
Tank tops
T-shirts
I live for pajamas
Pajamas, how I love thee.
Let us have pajama day
EVERY DAY.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Hair Color Rage
Admittedly, I'm being lazy today. I'm sitting on a rocking chair, holding my dog's food (I wish he would eat! Yes, Momma, he ate the first 3 scoops, but he gave hints of wanting more...apparently not really), watching television, perusing Pinterest, etc. Oh look! A commercial!
Okay. Cute? Right? Aww the husband thinks his daughter looks just like his wife. Aww the man is talking about the woman being beautiful.
I call BS.
Let's pull this apart from the multiple different flaws. 1) "Rob" doesn't know that his wife, "Kate" colors her hair. 2) Rob thinks that his daughter looks like Kate because they share a hair color. 3) Rob is a lucky guy because his wife and daughter have beautiful hair. 4) Both Kate and her daughter do not have a voice within the commercial. 5) Rob and Kate's daughter doesn't even have a name.
1) "Rob" doesn't know that his wife, "Kate" colors her hair.
In an earlier commercial following the lifestyle of this same couple, Rob tells the audience that he and Kate have been married for 15 years. They've gone through multiple moves together, new jobs--Hell! They even have a kid together now! One could say that Rob and Kate are a solid couple, a dynamic duo. Riddle me this how the man who has lived with the "love of his life" for 15 years--AT LEAST 15 years...who knows how long they were living together prior to marriage--has no clue that his wife colors her hair. Yes, the idea behind Nice'N Easy is that hair color is so easy you do it in a pinch. Yes, ideally hair color would be exactly the color of your own hair. But boxes! Gloves! Special hair color conditioner! Money! Does Rob pay attention to nothing his wife does for personal care?! Obviously they're not as close as the commercials would lead on if he's oblivious to her hair coloring habits. Not to mention, if Rob does not notice roots showing EVER, Kate has to be coloring her hair fairly regularly. Boxes are bound to be everywhere.
But maybe Kate is hiding her hair coloring secret from her husband! Why would this be necessary? Do you hide something from your significant other? I know it's a stretch, but if Rob is so in love with Kate's hair color, maybe Kate should be honest about her little secret. Clairol is encouraging wives to lie to their husbands. Good job!
2) Rob thinks that his daughter looks like Kate because they share a hair color.
Yeah, the commercial also has Rob saying that they share a walk and grin. How many different walks are there? How hard is it to mimic someone's walk? A grin is a bit more genetically related, but even still... The emphasis on the commercial is hair color. Rob and Kate's daughter share Kate's hair color. And Rob loves it! It's like his daughter is his mini-wife! Because that's not creepy! My mom and I have relatively similar hair colors: does this mean we look precisely like each other? No. No it does not.
3) Rob is a lucky guy because his wife and daughter have beautiful hair.
Beautiful fair is equal to being lucky. Not when you have beautiful hair, but when your wife has beautiful hair. Heterosexual women and homosexual men be warned--you can never be lucky. Sorry about your luckless life. Don't invest in the stock market. But in all seriousness, what about Kate and the daughter's hair makes Rob a lucky guy? His wife is beautiful, yes, but is he only a lucky guy because Kate's hair is the shade that it is? No.
4) Both Kate and her daughter do not have a voice within the commercial.
What is up with that? Any other beauty product commercial features the woman. It is the woman's opinion that matters most. Or is Clairol onto something else: we, the women, should buy beauty products because it truly is the men's opinions that matter. Behold! But then we bring up the argument of "do women wear makeup because they are competing with other women or is it to impress men?" Endless. The answer can never be found. Regardless, Kate is silent and so is her daughter. Kate's opinion of the hair dye is null and void.
5) Rob and Kate's daughter doesn't have a name.
How hard is it to name a focal point of a commercial? Choosing to keep her nameless does create the image of Kate's shadow, and while I understand that, the daughter has her own identity! She's not just a nameless nobody! She could one day grow up to be the President of the United States! She may become a Supreme Court Justice! Nameless daughter could be the first woman to land on Pluto! But because she was robbed of an identity in her commercial appearance, she will forever be known as Kate's daughter, Rob's mini-wife. She will never know her self-worth! Doomed from the beginning, this child will be nothing more than a pretty face, a hot walk, and some man-candy hair. Thank you, Clairol, for running her future and the lives of so many she could have impacted had she been given a proper name like Felicity (which really carries some weight, because let's face it, this girl is destined for greatness.)
If you were so inclined to see the first installment of the Rob/Kate romance, you can view it here:
Lo! Rob and Kate have two children. Let's not even mention the presence of the other child. Completely left behind! Feed the other child to the wolves, for all I care! FYI to Rob: I'm only 22 and I've had gray hair for years. You either started dating Kate when she was 12, or she's been coloring her hair forever. Get to know your woman...or someone else will.
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