The beauty of Halloween is...

watching a teletubby smoke a cigarette on the street corner.

A general announcement to the public: cheese goes bad. It's called "going bad" because when this event occurs, it's really, really NOT good.

"I've seen you somewhere before," she said in a way she found to be seductive.
"Maybe," he said, "I get around."
Fascinating, she thought, and disregarded this as a possible red flag.

If most of you feel like I do, which I'm sure you do, you spend a great part of your life being jealous of domesticated animals. All they do is sit around, sleep wherever they want, get pet and eat out of bowls-- it's a pretty fancy life. The one thing we have failed to consider is that they have to wear those big awkward conic sections around their necks when they go to the vet. So count your blessings.

Why is hair pretty attached but not unattached? We can't say that about anything else. Except fingers. And toes. Most body parts actually.

Sometimes I think I'm hungry but turns out I just really want to dance.

There are a few important things that society fails to teach our youth, like love, respect and the rules about what foods go bad, how long they last until they go bad, if you really can eat them once they have gone bad, what would actually happen to you if you did eat them after they had gone bad and if it tasted okay with salt does that mean that it did go bad and salt reversed the effects or that you just masked the badness and may now die a slow and painful death not unlike that of the macarena. We obviously need to put more money into the public school system.

In Language and Prejudice class, we learned about the subcultural differences between various groups' speech habits. Among Athabaskan Alaskans (yes, rhyming), the natives of the state of Alaska, conversational pauses are common and acceptable (what we call awkward silence), lasting up to two minutes. Among New York city Jews for example, "conversational overlap" (i.e. talking loudly over each other) is considered cooperative. If we were to put these two peoples together, their speech differences would most likely cause miscommunication and dispute or/and an amazing romantic comedy.

There are situations that you'd never know how you would react until you are placed in them. Then you learn things about yourself. Turns out that I would not eat a pretzel that has touched the floor in this apartment, but I would eat a pretzel that has fallen into my own shoe.

We spend so much time looking for ourselves or the "right path" that sometimes we forget about the "oncoming traffic".

The only problem with buying cottage cheese from the future (where it is cheaper) is: when does it expire?

Sharing an apartment with many people can be complicated, so it is important to work out scheduling. We have worked out an incredibly complex system involving the cosine of pi over seven and the derivative of satellite networks in order to ensure that whenever I really (really) have to pee, everyone else is just beginning their forty-three minute showers. I'll print you out a chart of the system somtime so you can implement it in your home as well.

There are always times in life when we come to realizations about the places we are. Realizations like our responsibility for creating the environment in which we exist and also that a person really can see through the bedroom window from the street outside. We can let these realizations shake our foundation or we can continue living the way we choose, happy environments in public view.

I miss you like a sharp stick in the eye.

We have much to thank George W. Bush for-- a beautiful October day, the unique sensation of crunching leaves in flip flops. Thanksgiving: I am thankful for global warming.

Today the lady on the phone "Sir"-ed me. Maybe that's why I got such good service.

Nobody ever comments on the blog. I'm okay with that because sometimes talking to myself is the most intelligent conversation I can have. Or most ridiculous. Or both. The only comment I got recently was "absolutely brilliant" from: anonymous. It's lovely to be anonymous and it's lovely to comment with compliments (or otherwise), but when the only person who finds me absolutely brilliant chooses to remain anonymous, it makes me think. And that hurts.

Today I was randomly stopped on the sidewalk and asked if I would participate in a survey. I said yes, because I love to be asked random questions by strangers and I love other people doing statistics.
Anyway, so turns out this survey is about sports trivia. So I get many a thing wrong (apparently phoning a friend is not allowed) simply because it is not multiple choice. I did know that the Red Sox won the world series, the Patriots won the Super Bowl, Northwestern Women's Lacrosse won National Title and Michael Jordan was named athlete of the century. I did not know lots of other things.
At the end of the survey they ask two non-sports questions. They asked if I had slept through any of my classes last quarter, which I had not (because I walk to class before I get my sleeping in).
The second question was "Do you think it is important to stay abreast on politics?" I said yes even though I never keep up, it's probably important to. I bet you probably have decided that this survey was about the correlation between sports knowledge, sleeping through class and political awareness.
But no, I have solved it. Statistics wants to know if the amount of sports knowledge corresponds to whether or not people laugh (or try not to) at the word "abreast". This is why I am a psychology major.

Doors-- harder than they look. You have to open it the WHOLE WAY before you try to walk through. I prefer to learn things to the hard way, obviously.

The college laundry room: where rich kids beg for quarters.

The distributive property is not merely a mathematical theory that is irrelevant to life. The distributive property can affect us in serious ways. Let me show you how. If a lotion makes your skin tingly and burn, the same result can be assumed about contact with the eyes. On a mathematical and hypothetical level obviously.

I decided that the weather will become cold gradually, even though in a matter of twenty four hours it dropped 40 degrees. The first day it was 50 degrees out, I wore a tank top with a long sleeve shirt over it. The second day it was 50 degrees out, I wore a short sleeve shirt with a jacket. The third day it was 50 degrees out, I wore a long sleeve shirt and a sweatshirt.
This way, even though it's getting colder, it's also getting warmer.

Love: a newly edited term in the English language that now does not include monogamy.

Ex: "Yea, baby, we are so in love. Theresa? Who said anything about Theresa?"

My popsicles are melted. They were accidentally removed from the freezer and left on the shelf of the pantry. It's a sad thing to be, a melted popsicle. It's not like you're a snowflake and when you melt you're a raindrop. No. Without frozen-ness, you are nothing as a popsicle. You're not -sicle anymore, like an icicle that you were. You were never pop. I don't know what made you think you ever had any pop. Not soda-related pop, not boy-band related pop, not snap crackle-related pop. What are you now, without your frozen-ness? Mushy cold sadness with a wooden stick suprise.

Things are funnier when you only half-listen

Commerical today:
"The army will teach you amazing things-- skittles to last a lifetime."

I was filling out my application to be an army of one when I realized they probably said "skills".

There are many times in life when we wonder where we can find happiness. The answer is on a street corner in Skokie, IL where I saw a small pug dog wearing a diaper. What can be better? Only a great dane in a life jacket, maybe.

I walked past a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk shaking change in a cup. Then I passed a boutique with a sign in front that read: "Hobo bags and wallets". I'm starting to understand that nowadays there is not much difference between being out of luck and in vogue, but I think the two things that hobos usually don't need are bags and wallets. They obviously need hobo coin purses though.