Brunch with the Marrieds or Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

this morning i got up at 5 AM to egg the chickens. 

no yolk.

(don't blame me. married one encouraged me, and that's what you get from someone who brags about watching star trek the next generation and is trying to bring back the phrase "what with the"....)

i've decided that now when people ask me about growing up in kansas, i'm going to tell them that instead of tipping cows, we egged chickens. who knows? maybe it'll catch on and kansans will actually decide that egging chickens is a better pastime than drinking alcohol from 44 oz. sonic styrofoam cups in parking lots. of course, there are a lot more sonics, cups and parking lots in kansas, than eggs.  at least in topeka. 

A Farewell to Arms or Who the Hell Are You?!

sadly, today i had to bid farewell to the bidet.

also, in theory, to annie, who failed to show up today to actually say good-bye to me in person. and this after our conversation yesterday that went as so:

(after a lunch where annie asked me questions and then interrupted my answers to talk to random strangers traipsing across the grass who were apparently more interesting than me. and now you know why annie and i are friends.)

annie: okay, i have to run to a meeting (said while looking to the sky, to the ground, anywhere but at me directly).

me: okay. will i see you again before i go? (reaching out to her physically with my hands and emotionally with my eyes to try to capture the moment)

annie: yeah, i'll see you tomorrow. high five.

*slapping of hands*

me: okay, see you, chump (looking wistfully over my shoulder at her as she disappeared into a building).

and just like that, i never saw her again. yes, it was yesterday, so how do i know i'll never see her again. did i put a hit out on her life? no, my friends, that is too time consuming. plus, if i'm going to murder someone, i want to get my hands dirty.

i mean, the thing with annie is that her memory is that of a goldfish. and not just any goldfish, but a radioactive goldfish that never had a chance because its brain is half pudding (J-E-L-L-O!) and therefore remembers significantly less than other goldfish:

yes, annie is constantly probing me (not like that, play doh boy) for "topeka gossip" even though she doesn't remember anyone from topeka. in fact, i'm not even sure she remembers where topeka is located on a map:

so, the likelihood that she will remember that we're good friends is slim to none. she's probably already forgotten my name. which is sad because i kinda like her. we get along well, and she's sort of an alcoholic, which makes me feel like less of a lush. but, these things happen, and i have to let her go.

so, let's raise our glasses to the bidet. i mean, to annie:

(to annie)

Back at the Homestead or ¿De Veras?

weeeeell, i'm back. good for you, sad for me kind of thing. i mean, i know you missed me, you don't have to put it in writing (but you should...), but coming back from vacation womps.

for instance, i am at work today, and for some reason, they actually want me to work. what's that all about? i just got back! i'm not going to work, i'm going to fiddle about and look at facebook all day. also upload pictures from my trip and be sad that i'm not on the beach today:


so, i'm not in colombia anymore, and i'm sure you all want to know all about it. but i'm already bored of recounting things, so i'll just hit a few highlights.

jason and i went to the salt cathedral, which is made out of a salt mine. what's cool about something being 85% salt? you get to lick the walls! mmm... (i also learned that "salary" comes from using salt or "sal" en espanol as a form of barter for other goods and services. it all makes sense! or should i say cents?! no, i should say sense, cents isn't that funny.)


the botero museum in bogota is SO COOL. okay, so my dad used to take us on all sorts of "cultural outings" (i mean, we lived in topeka, so....) when we were little. we'd do charcoal sketches at the zoo or hit up the natural history museum with the stuffed buffalo, but i've never been that into museums. they're okay, but i get overwhelmed. there's too much to see and there's never enough time, dammit!


BUT this museum was awesome. it was still pretty big, and i didn't get to see as much of it as i wanted, but there were all of these really amazing botero paintings (i think he's still painting, the cheeky so and so), and all of these other kinds of surrealist works as well. dali and picasso were both representin' in da house:


plus it was across the street from the gabriel garcia marquez cultural center, and love in the time of cholera is one of my favorite books ever.


i got to come up with a ridiculous amount of inside jokes AND enjoy an ocean view from inside an air conditioned apartment (with a sweatshirt on, naturally) with my new housemates:

The Sleeper, Beard, Neck Hair, and Bulge

i almost got on the wrong airplane. okay, really, i DID get on the wrong airplane, but the thing is, someone was sitting in my seat, and it was confusing because we were BOTH 17d. weird, huh?

yeah, it's because the plane was going to santa domingo and not new york. oops! i guess my spanish speaking skills did not improve at all....

but the most important thing that happened while i was in colombia is that i fell in LOVE. he couldn't get a visa, though, so i had to leave him at the hostel in bogota. i know he'll wait for me, though:


sad, i know. we're so cute together.

Spam or Karma Served Hot

i don't really believe that people gets what's coming to them. sometimes people are assholes, and they are just allowed to be assholes for the entirety of life. and seeing as how i don't believe in heaven or hell. unless you count going to a bar in topeka and running into everyone from high school as hell. and i sometimes do:



i don't really think that the world is balanced like that.

and yet.

i started getting TONS of spam to all of my email addresses. yes, all six of my emails have started bombarding me with the stuff. (i mean, i expect it of you, yahoo, but gmail? my beloved gmail?!?) my cup overfloweth with this crap, and i can't escape the offers to add a couple of inches to my unit, see paris hilton naked, or buy prescription drugs without a prescription. it attacks me from all sides:



secretly, i know why this is happening to me. as much as i have tried to poo-poo the idea of karma as ludicrous (due to the fact that life obviously isn't fair. i mean, matt leblanc had TWO tv shows AND starred in a movie with a monkey. what is THAT?), in recent days i have started to sing a different tune.

i have a confession to make.

my name is erin, and i am a spammer. (hi, erin.)

reluctant though i may be to do this, i do, in fact, send emails out to large groups of people who then email me back hateful responses about how they want to be off my list or they'll come after my children and loved ones. but i don't WANT to do this. and, to be fair, these people did give "me" their email addresses. and (because i'm obviously feeling guilty) i immediately remove people once they ask. and threaten me. three times. but i'm not on trial here!

maybe they are upset with me because i'm not giving them access to naked celebrity videos. maybe they can't read my quirky emails without downing handfuls of the prescription drugs that i haven't offered. at any rate, that bitch karma has certainly come back to flip me the bird.



maybe it's time to apologize and give something back to society for those little bits of sanity that i have stolen from people. or maybe instead, i'll just quit my job and go full time as a spammer.

anyone need any naked pictures of britney offering you drugs to elongate your wang? you know who to call....