So everyone can take pleasure in my pain.

Everyone knows I'm not the greatest cook. If I follow directions EXACTLY things tend to be ok. It's when I get creative that things go terribly wrong. Like tonight.

Yes, it is Christmas Eve - at 11:30 pm actually when I'm writing this. I offered to make a breakfast casserole for the family for Christmas morning. But I wanted to make it the night before because I'm definitely not a morning person. The casserole I decided to make has a ton of ingredients including bacon. I hate cooking bacon, so I decided to throw it in the oven on an aluminum pan to cook instead. While it was in there I was busy grating the cheese, chopping the onions, etc. I was very careful to diligently check on the bacon so it wouldn't burn but it didn't seem to be cooking. So I turned up the cooking temp to somewhere over 400 degrees. I then kept assembling the rest of it and remember thinking how well it was going, and how I might actually have an uneventful cooking experience. And that was the moment the fire alarm went off.

I kind of panicked when it happened because the alarm was SO loud, and it was 10:30 at night. I didn't want to wake my neighbors and cause a bigger scene. So I started running to my patio door and then stopped when I saw how much smoke was coming out of the oven so I ran back to the oven to grab the bacon. That's when I remembered that I only have one hot pad and all my towels were in the wash. I took the one hot pad and attempted to take the pan out of the oven. Because the pan was just aluminum foil, it kind of crumpled around my hand, spilling bacon grease all over the oven, all over the floor, and covering my thumb in the bubbling mess. I ran with the collapsing pan to the patio door where I remembered that the patio door isn't only locked, but it's blocked by a security device thing because I'm paranoid at night. I had to free the security bar while my thumb became one with the boiling grease that kept threatening to redecorate my living room floor. Miraculously I got the pan out on the patio before the pan could completely collapse.

I then ran and got a shirt and furiously tried to wave the smoke out the door to stop the alarm. After a couple minutes the alarm finally quieted and I realized how stinking bad my thumb hurt. I actually had bought a first aid kit over a year ago that I had never used. I brought it out and tried to find some kind of burn cream. I had to through every item in the kit including an emergency blanket, a glow stick, and anti-diarrheal pills before I FINALLY found some burn cream. By the way, have you ever noticed that it takes two working thumbs to open a bandaid?

So tonight I learned not to cook bacon in the oven, that people that make first aid kits apparently people think most customers are diarrhea-ridden, cold, and in the dark, and that I really need two hot pads.

Merry Christmas.

So I hate Walmart.

I've never been too thrilled with the service at Walmart. In fact, I can't think of anyone that has had good service at Walmart. But it seems to have gotten worse lately. Before I'd become immune to the rude comments and slow service, but now it's almost like they're all having a contest to see who can alienate the most customers the fastest. And they are all winning. The other day I was there with my brother and sister and they were wanting a Calendar. Just a basic calendar. But we couldn't find them anywhere . . . . so I actually attempted to ask someone. The first person suggested somewhere we had already looked and then gave up, the second person pretended not to hear me, and then I came upon the third employee. This employee actually suggested an area and offered to show me where she thought they were. I actually got a little excited because they never actually go with you, even if it is only 25 feet away. They normally just point and mumble. Well, when we got there and she saw that there wasn't actually any calendars, she just shrugged and stared at me. As if I'm supposed to thank her for walking me to a dead end. So I asked if she knew of another department that would have them, and she just started staring vacantly and then slowly inching to the end of the aisle so she could leave. I really couldn't believe it - I wasn't being rude, but she just wouldn't help. Nearby customers saw this whole scene and actually started suggesting where they think they've seen some calendars. It's pretty pathetic when a company as big as Walmart has to rely on the customers to help each other.

The other night I was there around 1 am, which is no fun to begin with because that is when all the weird people come out to shop. But it also means that all the employees are restocking the shelves. Which is understandable except for the fact that they like to pretend customers aren't there. When I try to get past them, they ignore me as if I'll just go away if they pretend I'm not there. And when I was in an aisle that night they actually placed a ton of crates of merchandise on either end of the aisle without me realizing it. It completely blocked me in. When someone finally came to move it out of the way, they not only didn't apologize, they looked at me like I should be apologizing to them for making them move the crates.

I've decided the customer service training for Walmart must consist of:

"Try not to make death threats to the customers. Unless they ask you questions. Then it's totally understable. The End."

So it's been busy

So a couple days ago my little sister Jarica called me and told me her gerbil, that she'd had for 5 years was dying. I went over to stay with her as moral support - because having your first pet die is tough. It was a very long un-fun process. I've decided we need to be able to have inexpensive ways of putting gerbils to sleep. I kept googling for a way to do that - but apparently I'm the first to think of it because everyone else was more interested in how to keep their gerbil alive. Go figure.

When the gerbil did pass we had a heck of a time trying to find the right size box for him (or her? . . . ). Every box we found was pretty big enough for the gerbil and 300 of his friends. We finally found a little box that was supposed to be for golf balls. It was just the right size. Then I tried explaining to Jarica that we can't really bury him - because when I did that for all my 26 hamsters they ended up being Hors d'œuvres for the coyotes. So I took on the duty of carrying out the burial via the trash can. Except that after enduring the many exhausting hours before, I was kinda in a hurry to get home and the recycle bin was the closest to my car. So the recycle bin ended up being the gerbil's final resting place. The next morning one of my friends from work came over and said she saw this sign on a recycle truck:

And she asked, "Who would EVER throw a gerbil in the recycle bin?!?!"

Um . . . that would be me.

On an entirely different note, I've been working A LOT lately and on Saturday morning I was walking into work when I saw this:

And then I wondered why the sunset was on the wrong side. It took me awhile to remember that sunrises are on the east side. It's been awhile since I've witnessed one. Well, willingly at least. Which is why I don't believe I should be awake before 8am - I'm just too stupid to handle sunrise logic.

So if you can comprehend this post it means you can also follow my daily train of thought. If you can, I'm sorry. And I think we should be friends.

A friend recommended these drink mix in things - apparently they have vitamins and taste good or something. And Costco sells them so I figured it would be a good deal. I didn't even realize until I got home that I spent $20 something dollars for 30 packets of mix in powder stuff. And one packet is supposed to be mixed into one water bottle - so it's kind of a rip off.

So I had a lot of expectation for these little packets and brought them to work. This is all in an attempt to not drink soda and I was kinda excited when I broke out the packet at work. And then I put it in the water bottle and the water started bubbling, and FOAMING, and then like exploded all over my desk. And when it started bubbling over I tried to sip a little to stop it which is basically the worst decision I've ever made. I just got a mouthful of foaming, fizzing powder that even a Fear Factor contestant would pass on. I've decided that when I have kids I'm gonna use this stuff in lieu of tobasco sauce or soap if my kid starts saying bad words. I think it'll be effective. And possibly become something they'll look forward to if my cooking skills don't improve.

And then when I looked back at the purple bubbling foam I was suddenly reminded of the Power Rangers movie. The villain in it is Ivan Ooze and in the movie there is the purple goo that grows larger and larger and then forms Ivan Ooze. Which looks like a dignified grandpa that took a bath in some grape kool-aid.

This is eerily similiar to my expression when my water bottle exploded.

Which is what reminded me of when my sisters and I would play Power Rangers and fight over who got to play Kimberly, the pink ranger. Because we thought she was the prettiest and really wanted to date the green ranger - or the white ranger. It was a very complicated love triangle. So we compromised by calling each other Kimberly, Dimberly, and Wimberly. And then this reminded me of how I read that some celebrity married someone named Gimberly. Which made me really want to write to Gimberly and ask her if her parents were also Power Rangers fans that always wanted to be Kimberly. And then ask her if she knows Gimberly is not a real name.

And this is why I think it would be much more productive if I drank Diet Coke at work instead.

So the world is so much more interesting when you are not completely conscious.

Wait . . . . don't your potatoes have faces on them?

So last night was another night where my brain thought it would a great thrill to see what would happen if I didn't sleep. At all. Just to keep things interesting. And of course, today was the most demanding day I've had in awhile at work. I had a potluck and a 3 hour training to facilitate. For the potluck I decided to bring Funeral Potatoes because they are scrumptious and apparently I'm the over achiever that couldn't just bring donuts like the rest of the world. I wanted them to be hot and nummy when I brought them in so I planned on cooking them right up until I had to leave. Well, because I couldn't sleep, I decided to just go into at 6am, so around 5:30 I'm leaving with this blazing hot pan of funeral potatoes and all I brought to carry them with was a small hand towel that didn't even reach the length of the pan, so I was always holding a part of the pan with my bare hands. Now here's the thing I've noticed when I don't get sleep - I don't plan ahead, get distracted really easily, and my hand/eye coordination (which is normally at a 4 year old level) dramatically decreases. I also had to hold a Jeopardy game that I made for the training. So that is balancing on one arm while my hands are playing hot potato (literally) with the funeral potatoes. I'm pretty sure I have at least 2nd degree burns on my hands, I just can't feel them yet.

Right before I was leaving work, my supervisor told me that she monitored some of the calls I had taken this morning. She didn't tell me if it was good or bad - just that she had listened to some of the calls I had taken. And here's the scary thing - I honestly don't remember even taking calls this morning. Which is making me pretty nervous and really hoping that I didn't give away $20,000 to a merchant because I liked the sound of their name.

Then on the way home from work I got distracted because I saw one of those super tiny cars and started wondering if having a smaller car means you have a less chance of getting in a car accident because their is less car to hit and I ended up driving to 51st ave - which is at least a couple miles away from my house.

So I've decided that it is important to make the decision to never make life choices on days like this. Because I can imagine myself waking up one day wondering why I no longer have a job, live in Wisconsin, and became a politician all because of one day without sleep.

So healthy food is weird.

I'm on a quest to eat better, because I think it's fun to add some more challenges in my life. This never ends well because I always come across stuff like this:

In case you can't read the bag, it says: Terra: exotic vegetable chips. I was thinking before I opened the bag that 'exotic' referred the kinds of vegetables used, or maybe these vegetables had an exciting accent. Then I found out that 'exotic' must actually mean 'alarming discoloration'. See Exhibit A:

So this chip looked questionable. Especially if the question was, 'Do you think people will notice unidentifiable purple stringy things found in the chips?' (The answer? . . . Yes.) Then I dared to try and eat one and it felt like I was chewing plastic. No joke. And, funny enough, I don't really care for eating plastic. So I tried to justify it by thinking that there must be obscene amounts of vitamins packed into each chip. Because they're vegetables, right? And then I looked at the Nutritional Facts. The most of any vitamin these plastic chips had was 8% of Vitamin A, which is pretty much the equivalent of the amount of vitamins you would get it you licked a Flintstones vitamin. So there was basically no reason for me to gnaw on plastic. Perfect.

By the way, I found this photo on Awkward Family Photos and I have yet to stop laughing about it. So many awesome things going on in this photo . . . . you think this family would mind if I framed it and displayed it in my house? It may be a tad too creepy even for me . . .

So this is getting ridiculous.

My life has been ridiculous lately. There just isn't another word to explain it. Friday my car broke again - it won't shift out of park and I've already taken it in and they replaced some parts and then it broke again. The only way we can get it shift again is to drag the car a couple inches and then it'll shift - well, it'll shift until it decides to take a break. And then we drag it again with my dad's truck. When we took it in, the shop said that they can't tell what's wrong because in order for me to get it to the shop we have to get it to shift again, so it wasn't 'broken' when they saw it. So their suggestion is for me to take it back and drive it until it breaks and then take it back in again. (Which means, again, that I would have to get it to shift again so AGAIN it won't be broken when they saw it). The shop guy took about 10 minutes before he figured out that this didn't make sense. So I have the car again, but I just never know when it's going to break down. Which means I'm rethinking every errand I have to make. Suddenly wearing pajamas to get gas is not such a good idea - because if I'm stuck there for three hours, that could be awkward. My dad came up with a way to possible stop the shifter from getting stuck, which practically involves a secret handshake and a code word, and seeing as I complicate simple things like walking, any added step causes emotional distress.

Then, Saturday morning I was suddenly infested with gnats. And gnats are possibly the stupidest and most annoying organism in the world. They have NO FEAR. They just fly right up to your face like, "HEY! WHAT'S UP!? HEYHEYHEYHEY!" and do not know when to quit. And any attempts to trying to kill them inevitably ends up with hitting yourself in the face. So I decided to google it and started typing, and then google started doing the "Hey, I think I can finish your sentence! Let me guess! LET ME!!" and it is ALWAYS WRONG. See below:

I finally found the information I needed and so I did what the internets told me to and filled a bunch of cups with apple cider vinegar and oil and placed them around the apartment. (Seriously, I sometimes wonder if all of the internet got together in some kind of conspiracy and made up something crazy and watched to see if people actually did it. Because it's on the internet. Like, for example, placing cups of apple cider vinegar and oil around your house. They're probably watching and screaming, "I can't believe she did it!! She actually set out the equivalent of salad dressing around her house thinking it will kill bugs! These crazy kids . . . . ")

Then, because I was feeling uber gross with gnats flying around, I poured chlorine bleach down every drain, then plugged the drain, and filled the sink/bathtub with bleach. You know, for good measure. So my apartment now smells like a pool on steroids. And the fumes are ridiculous and headache-inducing.

Because I was stuck at home because my car was being ridiculous, I decided to dye my hair. And I have yet to figure out how to gracefully rinse out the dye - so I end up doing acrobatic yoga poses trying to rinse my hair without staining my clothes and the rest of the bathroom, which took FOREVER. And I'm pretty sure that in the process of attempting to climb the walls for a better hair rinsing posistion, I did some kind of damage to my legs and back. They hurt crazy bad that night and still do. And I didn't mention anything because I get accused of being dramatic (I have no idea why). And then yesterday I noticed that I have two huge bologna-sized bruises (nice visual, eh?) on the front of my shins. I'm willing to bet that I'm the only person who has ever bruised themselves while dying their hair. It takes talent.