It's Halloween Time! pt. 2

What a scary black cat!



So BGF decided to take the classic route of making your own t-shirt for your Halloween costume. For those of you who don't know, there's a long standing inside joke about how BGF is a turtle and it's really not very funny if you don't know him, so I'll just post the picture and let you enjoy the creative power of iron on letters and Hanes t-shirts. Note the precious stuffed turtle that I gave him for Christmas last year. It's really very cute and quite possibly the most perfect inspiration for a Halloween costume EVER.



On to the party!



The party would have been great fun were it not for that one guy who had no social skills and a tendency to prey on the weak of the herd (i.e. me and Anne and BGF). There was good food and cute costumes and fun games and frankly, all the ingredients were there for a good time.

Except...

For when that one guy sidled up to BGF on the couch and got thisclose to his face (and I mean makeout close, people) and began talking about how he is struggling with homosexual thoughts. Which was after he put his hands around BGF's neck like he was going to strangle him. And then he followed Anne to the bathroom and scratched on the door WHILE SHE WAS IN THERE and this was AFTER he had followed her around and kept saying, "I just can't stop touching your hair!" And then he kept touching my pajamas and asking over and over and over again if they were real and if I really slept in them. And then, of course, he talked about how horror movies made him want to kill people.

Well, I'm not in the party mood now. Are you?

It's Halloween Time! pt. 1

Here I am cuddling with Funshine Bear in preparation for my very first evening out at a costume party. Hold me Funshine Bear! It's important to note that I had friends help me out with this very exciting and important time in a girl's life. I got the idea for the brown eyeliner freckles from my dear former roommie, Phillison.

It's also important to note that I'm obssessed with candy corn. So much so, that I own two different stuffed animals depicting the cutness of the yellow, orange, and white triangle. This fist one here is a zebra-horse type animal with large legs that remind of me of giant candy corn. It's difficult for me to not eat him.

Moose are also cool. Moose dressed as candy corn? Doubly cool!





Don't worry, I'll have more pictures and an update of the party itself posthaste. But for now...it's time to party!

I Need a Life

So I was just reading Myles' blog and saw this new meme thingy going around. I never do these and have never been tagged, but I thought this was just too weird to pass up.

If you'd like to waste your own time, go to Google and type in "Your Name needs." And if you literally type in "your name," I'll shoot you. Here's my results:

1) Cora needs a home that will provide her with lots of love and attention.
2) Cora needs someone to love.
3) Cora needs a 12-step program
4) Cora needs either to get leave of court or to drop at least 30 of the questions, before she can compel answers.
5)CORA needs volunteers.
6)Cora needs to be reimbursed for sign making material.
7)Cora needs to be a belter with head voice extensions.

Deuce

1. Today, I wore my "I'm a B.A. Baracus" t-shirt that features the opening monologue to The A-Team theme on the back. And this temp (the same one who thought I was 19) said, "Did that really happen!?" I kid you not. The child had no concept of who the A-Team was or what they were about. How is that possible? Hilariously, the three older women who work with him immediately berated him for not knowing about Mr. T. Ha!

But I am genuinely concerned for this kid. Does he believe everything he reads? If this is the case, keep him away from the internet! And e-mail! He probably believes somebody really got their kidneys cut out in a bathtub filled with ice and that you can sit on an HIV infected needle in a dark movie theater. And my god, I bet he's never ever eaten pop rock and drunk coke. What a sheltered, paranoid life he must lead.

2. I am a really fast eater. This has been a problem since I was a child. My mom would complain that I simply inhaled my food, never stopping to chew. She always reminded me (read: yelled) that it was not a race to see who could shovel food into whose mouth faster. But that never stopped me. Besides, I'd always beat her at a race of eating because she is the slowest eater in the entire universe.

I tried slowing down eating, really, I did. As I grew older, I realized the virtue of savoring food and enjoying the experience of dining. But it never seemed to work. I immediately put up and shut up when food is placed before me and you won't hear a peep out of me until the plate is finished. It's like I'm terrified of it suddenly evaporating before my eyes. Or maybe I subconsciously think that the food will go bad. I don't know. But when the there is subsistence placed before me, I devour it without abandon. I noticed it last night when I finished eating before Anne and I had done most of the talking. And just now, I was shoveling my McNuggets into my mouth faster than you say "Heimlich Maneuver." I don't know why, but I CAN'T STOP EATING AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT. Maybe I secretly think I'm being taped as I eat and am under consideration for a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records as the fastest eater EVER. I've always wanted to be in that ever since I realized that I had no extraordinary talent to set me apart. This could be my chance to shine!

Heartbreak

I found out last night that my grandfather has taken a turn for the worse. You'd think he'd be out of turns, considering how many times he goes to the hospital and comes out with a worse situation. But he has hung on despite all the badness, and God bless him for that. But I think this time is different. His kidneys are shutting down and his heart is giving him problems and he has made it clear that those doctors better not even THINK about resuscitating him.

So, my aunt and mother had to call in the assistance of hospice, which, as you might know, is a bad sign. Now, don't get me wrong. I love hospice. I really do. My family has always had a really good experience with them and they have proven over and over again to be good people. But you never ever want to see them. Ever. Because it always means that it's near the end and that just sucks.

My mom is obviously really really upset and apparently, all of this happened last week and I am only just now finding out. She has a tendency to wait until she can compose herself before telling me any kind of news. And it took her about a week to talk to me about it without crying.

It just sucks. I can't be eloquent about the pain and anger I am feeling right now. I talked Anne's ear off at dinner tonight about my family because I feel them slipping away. I can't hardly stand it.

Lunchtime Blogging

The other day, one of my temporary workers thought I was 19. Nineteen, people. Nineteen. I'm 25. I even got my hair cut last week and I still look like a teenager. Oy.

In case you haven't noticed, I am blogging regularly. The reason? BGF is out of town. I normally eat lunch with him and we chat about this and that and there's simply no time for typing. But I'm eating lunch by myself this week with only a keyboard to keep me company. It sucks eating lunch by myself at work because then people want you to do things. If I have BGF here, then everyone knows I'm on lunch and am not to be bothered. But when I just sit here looking bored, then they want things. And dangit, I want my 30 minute break! So it helps to do this noontime blogging because when I look intently at my monitor and type quickly, people think I'm busy. Not that that stops them from interrupting me, but at least it gives them a half second pause.

So Fiona Apple is coming to a House of Blues in a relatively close city to me. I really, really, really, really, really want to go see her, but it's on a Monday night. I'm contemplating on whether or not I want to take a vacation day for it. It might seem like an inane reason to use one of my precious few vacation days, but people, it is Fiona Apple. She is amazing. And coming to a city near me! Unfortunately it's still far enough away, that I couldn't get off of work and up to this town in enough time. Decisions, decisions.

Oh dangit, I'm feeling guilty even though I still have a good 10 minutes left of my lunch break. :sigh: Back to work I go.

Winter is for Families

There's something about this time of year that makes me want to settle down and nest. I guess that's not really uncommon considering this is the time for hibernation and feasting of the fat you gathered in the warm months. But I get this weird googly happy family sense about me during the winter months. It's finally gotten cold here this week and I've been thinking about winter coats and apple cider and fire places. Which in turn makes me think about husbands and children and reading stories by the fire. I've never really noticed this before and maybe it's just a sign of my biological clock ticking, but I suddenly want to be settled. In time for winter. So that when the snow comes and the wind hits the shingles, I'll have someone to snuggle up to.

I noticed this last night while I was at Target. There was a mom with her daughter there and she was talking about how she could buy these warm flannel pajamas, so she could wear the top and her husband could wear the bottoms. And it was just so darn cute and it tugged on my heartstrings and I remember thinking, "Odd. I feel...emotional." It was like someone has woken up the little happy homemaker within and she was roaring.

I suppose it doesn't help that I've been reminded twice in the last week that I'm not getting any younger and isn't settling down and having a family something you want, moron? My God, doesn't seeing all of these cute little babies swaddled in fleece make you want to have one of your own? It doesn't? I don't care! Get to work honey because you're running out of time.

Maybe I just miss my mom. Maybe I am just now realizing how close Thanksgiving is and how much I can't wait to see my family. Or maybe I really am getting old and maturing. Either way, I don't have a man and there are no babies on the way (THANK YOU GOD because immaculate conception does NOT appeal to me) and I'm bracing myself to spend a barren winter in my little apartment snuggling with stuffed animals and a dog with diarrhea.